New (Strange) Beginnings
by talkwordytome
Summary: What if Harley hadn't gotten the traditional happy ending? What if something devastating had happened, and it's Tony who's left to pick up the pieces? After Killian issues an attack on that little town in Tennessee, Harley is left an orphan, and Tony finds himself taking on an unfamiliar role-caretaker. Iron Man 3, AU. Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, y'all! I've recently discovered just how much I love fanfiction and how much fun it is. Not sure about my skills as a fanfiction writer yet, but I love Iron Man, so I figured-why not give it a shot? MAJOR spoilers ahead for Iron Man 3, by the way. Oh, and I don't know Iron Man or any of the characters, because Lord knows what would happen if I did.**

**So, without further adieu, onwards!**

* * *

_Boom! _

_You'd think explosions only sounded that way in cartoons, but they sounded that way in real life, too. They also happened just as suddenly, and ended just as quickly._

_What cartoons don't show, though, is what happens after the explosion is over._

_Everything was flattened, and what hadn't been flattened was charred rubble and dust. The lucky ones had died at the detonation. The unlucky ones—they'd just have to wait and wait and wait for the inevitable. Broken bodies lay underneath a clear December sky._

_Among the wreckage, someone began to slowly stir. A small blonde head popped up from under a pile of rocks and debris. A blood-smeared face that hadn't yet lost its baby roundness took in the carnage with wide, dazed eyes._

_The explosion was still ringing in his ears and everything hurt and the world was blurry and he just wanted to sleep until everything was better. He looked down at his arm and vaguely registered that a bone was sticking out of the skin. _

_He turned to the side and threw up the contents of his stomach. Then, his eyes gradually closed again. He slept for a while, and when he woke up, he wasn't sure how much time had passed. But he was sure of one thing—he needed to find his mother, and his sister. _

_He gingerly untangled himself from the ruins and stood on shaky legs. He took a few tentative steps, realized he could still walk, and took a few more._

_"Mom!"_

_Between the wreckage and his shell-shocked brain, it was slow going—but he did his best. His arm made it impossible to lift anything up, but he kicked at piles when he could in the hopes of dislodging the already shaky foundations._

_"Mom! Amber! Can you hear me?"_

_He made his way to what was left of the diner, and stepped through what had been the doorway not thirty minutes ago. "Mom?" he said, desperation filling his lungs, "Mommy, please! Are you here? Mom!"_

_He looked behind the counter, in the kitchen, under tables. He was about to give up and search elsewhere, when he saw her. Curled up in a corner right near the door—her hair was matted with blood and one of her legs was definitely broken, but she was there._

_"Mom!" he yelled as he stumbled over to her._

_He got down on his knees and tried to take her pulse like the doctors in TV shows. He couldn't feel anything, but he didn't really know what he was doing, either. He shook her shoulder—gently at first, but then rougher as she didn't respond._

_"Mom!" he said, "Mom, wake up. Wake up, Mommy! Wake up, please, Mommy, please!"_

_She stayed still. He began to talk, not really conscious of the words that were coming out his mouth, "Mom, it's Harley. You need to wake up, 'cause me and Amber need you. You need to wake up so we can go to Disney World this summer, like we've always talked about. Mom, Iron Man is going to be here soon so just hold on, okay? But you need to wake up so he can help you. He's going to save you, that's what he does. But you need to WAKE UP!"_

_Nothing. And Harley, suddenly, the same way he knew the ocean had tides and there were stars in the sky—he knew his mother was dead. For a moment, he felt everything so acutely that he felt nothing. Then, just as abruptly as the explosion, the pain came. _

_Boom._

* * *

"Mom!"

It wasn't a particularly loud cry—a half-asleep sob more than anything else. But it woke Tony nonetheless. A few weeks ago, this wouldn't have been a surprise, because a few weeks ago—Tony was lucky if he slept during the night at all.

A lot had changed in those few weeks, though. Doctors had taken the shrapnel out of Tony's chest, which made room for better blood flow and easier breathing. The operation had also, inadvertently, made room for things that were considerably less tangible, but no less important. Stability. Normalcy. Certainty.

"Mom, please!"

There it was again. Tony slowly opened his eyes and stared blearily around the bedroom. He nudged the sleeping form of Pepper next to him, "Pepper. Hey, Pep. Wake up," he whispered.

Pepper mumbled something incoherent and sat up, "Tony," she yawned, "What's going on? It's 2:30 in the morning."

"Do you hear that?" Tony asked.

Pepper stared, "Hear what? What are you talking about, Tony? I thought the nightmares were done—,"

"_Mom, wake up, please!"_

"There!" Tony exclaimed, "That. You hear it, too, right?"

Pepper, suddenly much more awake, swung her legs out of bed, "Oh, Tony," she sighed as she put on her bathrobe, "It's Harley."

Tony began to feel something he very rarely felt—stupid. _Of course _it was Harley. Harley, from a small town in Tennessee. Harley, of the smart brain and the even smarter mouth. Harley, who'd lost his mother and his younger sister not quite four weeks ago. Harley, who reminded Tony so much of himself.

Harley.

When Tony had found Harley half-alive among the wreckage of that diner in Tennessee, he'd acted with classic Tony Stark spontaneity. But, that classic spontaneity had resulted in a very un-classic Tony Stark decision.

He'd adopted Harley.

Well, not technically. And not right that minute, either. There was a very, very long list of things that Tony needed to do first. Like He'd flying Harley to a hospital for surgery, for example. Upon arriving at Erlanger Medical Center, he'd disguised himself as best he could with a baseball hat and sunglasses. Counting on the nurses not caring about current events, he answered, "I'm his uncle," to their cursory, "Are you family?"

Tony had briefly considered saying, "Dad", but something had stopped him short.

He'd stayed by Harley's bed side until he woke up. The hospital, naturally, had eventually realized that he was _the _Tony Stark and _not_ Harley's uncle. Though, no one had said anything. Reporters had tried their best to, but Tony had kept his security in front of the door at all times. He knew from experience how intrusive the press could be, and he didn't want that for the kid.

The whole time Tony was sitting next to Harley's bed, he knew Harley was going to be coming home with him. Tony didn't know _why _he'd come to this decision. The logical part of his brain—a very big part—kept reminding him how out of character it was. "Sure, you're a philanthropist," it told him, "But you do it from a distance. You give money to charities; you don't bring charity cases into your _home_."

Yet, the emotional part of his brain—which was, admittedly, far smaller than the logical part—hadn't reminded him of anything. Not with words, anyway. Rather, it sent bolts of squirming…_something _into his stomach. Empathy, maybe—an emotion Tony has limited to no experience with.

As it turned out, that was a much more effective means of communication.

By the time Harley had woken up thirty-six hours later, Tony's mind—all parts of it—had been made up. Pepper, surprisingly, had been on-board almost instantly, too. There was just one really big caveat—he'd needed to actually talk to _Harley_.

Tony had tried. He'd tried _really _hard. But Harley, clearly, had no desire to discuss it. He was nothing like the gutsy, wise-ass kid Tony had first met. He'd become subdued and tearful and skittish.

The thing was, Tony realized, you can't just expect a ten-year-old kid to be ready to process this level of _fucked up _less than a week after the fact. At a loss, he'd called Pepper.

"Just trust your instincts," she'd told him, "Do what you think is right. He's sending out cues—watch for them. Is what you're saying making him nervous or sad or uncomfortable? Then change the subject. Stick to easy topics at first, and then ease into the harder stuff. Make sure he knows that what _he_ wants and what _he _thinks is the most important."

Acting out of character—he was suddenly doing that _a lot _lately—Tony had taken Pepper's advice. It didn't, of course, fix everything. But it was a start.

Tony had a feeling that his life was becoming just that—one start, one unsure beginning, after another.

* * *

Harley was released from the hospital four days later—there was a rod in his arm and eighteen new stitches in his forehead. Other than that, he was, technically, whole. Tony knew better than anyone, though, that some cracks ran too deep for stitches to hold together.

Harley did, in the end, come home with Tony. He still seemed apprehensive about the situation, but after quietly explaining to the blanket on his hospital bed that he didn't really have any other family and he didn't want to be in a foster home, really, his mind seemed made up.

In the wake of the destruction of their home in LA, Tony and Pepper had been staying in Stark Tower. It wasn't exactly equipped for permanent habitation anymore, but they were making do. Tony had told Harley about their living arrangements as they drove home. Upon hearing that they'd be staying in New York, the ghost of a smile had flitted across Harley's face.

"Will I get to see a wormhole?" he'd asked.

Tony had smiled, but he'd also felt a sharp twang he'd become accustomed to recently—it was heartache, though he didn't quite have the word yet.

S.H.I.E.L.D. and the rest of the Avengers were still using it as headquarters, too. When Tony had told Harley that, he got genuinely excited for the first time in days, "Really? No way! Will I get to meet them? Are you guys going to go on missions? If you do, can I come? Is the Hulk going to smash stuff? Are bad guys going to blow stuff up—,"

Harley had stopped short upon saying those words, and then fallen silent and serious again. Tony had thought to himself, "He's going to need to see a therapist when we get back," and the immediateness of the instinct had shocked him.

Tony had tried to keep things as normal as possible, "Kid, first of all, stop talking. You ask too many questions."

He'd looked at Harley to gauge how well the joke had worked. When he'd seen the smallest hint of a smile on Harley's face, he'd continued, "Second of all, you'll maybe get to meet the Avengers if you don't get on my nerves too much. I don't know about missions, but don't count on going on them with us. The _last _thing we need is some punk-ass kid tagging along. I sure as hell hope the Hulk—whose name is Dr. Banner, by the way—doesn't smash anything, because I'm already getting renovations done in LA, and I don't need them here, too."

He'd paused as he arrived at Harley's last question. Harley, in turn, had turned his stare down towards his lap—he looked like he was trying hard to hold back tears. One hand still on the wheel, Tony had taken Harley's chin in his other, "Hey," he'd said gently, and Harley had looked up, "There won't be any bad guys there to blow stuff up. I'm not going to let that happen again. I promise."

Tony had looked at the child sitting next to him, and hoped to God it was a promise he could make good on.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys!**

**Wow, okay, thank-you so much for all the good reviews! I never expected this story to pick up this much attention so quickly. But y'all are absolutely amazing! Here's a new chapter; I don't know if I'll always be able to update this quickly, though, but I'll try! Oh, and no part of Iron Man belongs to me (Lord knows what would happen if it did). I only own the idea for this story and the shirt off my back.**

**Okay, just kidding, I own far more than that. But now we're getting into semantics, so-onward!**

* * *

"Mommy, please!"

Of course, when you adopted a child, you also adopted his baggage. And in Harley's case, there was quite a lot of it.

He had nightmares while he slept (if he managed to sleep at all), and anxiety attacks during the day—much like Tony, himself. In spite—or perhaps because of—the similarities between them, Tony wasn't settling into his new role of "guardian", as the court had called it, quite as well as he'd planned. He was good at distracting the kid and making him laugh, but when it came to comforting him while he cried, well. Tony definitely still had some work to do there.

Pepper, on the other hand, was adjusting marvelously. Tony had never looked at her as the maternal type, but her instincts, apparently, were really quite keen. She seemed to know exactly what to say to Harley when he was shaking and crying in the aftermath of a flashback, or when he couldn't sleep because every time he closed his eyes he saw his mom lying there on the diner floor. Words evaded Tony in those moments, though; his legendary silver tongue malfunctioned. He'd never admit it to anyone, but it made him feel horribly inadequate.

Pepper hurried down the hall after Harley's cries, and Tony trailed behind her. He didn't really know what he was going to do or say, but he figured at least being in the room was better than nothing at all.

Pepper opened Harley's door and sat down on his bed. She gathered him into her arms, "Harley," she murmured, "Buddy, wake up. It's only a bad dream. You're okay, everything's okay. I've got you, and I'm here. Pepper's here."

Harley let out a long, shuddering gasp as he opened his eyes, "I had the dream again," he whispered despondently, "I—I was in the diner and my mom, she—she was right there and she was smiling. And so I walked over to—to her but then there was an explosion and there was blood everywhere and she—she—she—,"

But an anguished sob cut Harley's words off. He buried his hot little face into Pepper's neck and clutched at the fabric of her pajama top. Pepper rubbed at his back and did her best to comfort him. Tony watched from the doorway—feeling very conspicuous and awkward. Pepper looked at him, helpless grief etched on her features.

_I don't know how to make this better_, she seemed to be saying.

Tony shook his head. Neither did he. And it _sucked_.

Pepper held Harley while Tony watched for a few more uncertain minutes. Then, as Harley cried and Tony just _knew _he was coming up short somehow, inspiration struck.

_Maybe_, Tony thought, _I'm not so bad at this after all_.

He walked to the bed and took Harley's hand, "Hey," he said, "Do you want to see something?"

Harley's crying slowed down to hiccoughs. He stared at Tony, intrigued, "What is it?"

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Can't tell you that. Top secret S.H.I.E.L.D. stuff," he lowered his voice to a stage whisper and nodded to Pepper, "We can't have _her _finding out. Who knows what she'd do?"

Pepper swatted Tony gently on the arm, "Oh, _very_ nice," she teased, "Harley, do you see what I have to put up with every day?"

Harley let out a shaky, bubbling little laugh. Tony and Pepper shared a passing smile as Tony gently guided Harley off the bed, "Come on," he said, "We're going up to the roof."

"To the roof?" Harley gasped.

Tony nodded seriously, "Think you can handle it?"

Harley nodded eagerly, and Tony smiled, "Good. Get a blanket and a sweatshirt. I don't want to hear any whining about how cold you are."

Harley started to walk over to his bed, but then he turned back to Tony. He pulled on his shirt sleeve until he was down to his level, "Tony?" he whispered, "Are you sure Pepper can't come?"

Tony looked to Pepper, then to Harley, and back again. "Well," he said slowly, "I suppose Pepper can come with us just this once, so long as she promises to be discrete about it."

Pepper rolled her eyes from her spot on Harley's bed, "Really, Tony? Really?"

"Tony," Harley said, "You're kind of being a jerk."

Tony gasped in mock outrage, "Me? A jerk? Harley, I'm hurt."

Harley gulped, "Really?"

Tony waited a moment before he grinned and said, "Nah. I'm just messing with you. Come on, we're burning…well, not daylight. Nightlight, I guess. Let's go," he turned to Pepper, "You can come, too, Pep. I'd hate to be called a jerk in my own house again."

He shot a look at Harley, who blushed and ducked out of the room. Tony and Pepper followed suit. Tony slipped his arm around Pepper's waist, and Pepper placed a quick kiss on Tony's cheek. "What are you taking him to the roof for?" she asked.

Tony just shrugged, "I said it was top-secret," Tony answered mysteriously.

Pepper laughed softly, "Oh, you _are _a jerk," she murmured affectionately.

"Takes one to know one."

* * *

It _was _cold outside. Cold and clear. New York was so bright that it was usually impossible to see the stars, but Stark Tower stood so much higher than the rest of the buildings that it was one of the only spots in the city that facilitated star-gazing.

"Wow," Harley whispered reverently, staring up at the spangled sky.

"Wow, indeed," Pepper echoed, "Oh, Tony, it's _beautiful _up here."

Tony gave her hand a warm squeeze before he turned to Harley and said, "Alright, spread that blanket out right there. Yeah, just there. Perfect."

Tony walked over to the blanket and lay down. He gestured for Harley and Pepper to join him. They did—Harley next to Tony, and Pepper on the other side of Harley. They lay there in a happy, comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"There aren't many spots in the city where you can see the stars like this," Tony suddenly said, "I'd come up here on nights when I…was having trouble sleeping. Didn't usually fix anything, but it was nice."

He paused for a few seconds before he continued, "Space is infinite and it's always changing, but it's also one of the only things that's permanent. It'll still be there long after we aren't."

Pepper had grown very quiet and still. Tony didn't often address his past or his demons. They both knew that those things existed, but actually talking about them made them real and tangible. It was just easier to leave certain things unsaid.

Pepper reached across Harley and grabbed Tony's hand. Harley was caught between the two of them like a breath; for the first time in a long time, things actually felt safe and secure.

Tony began to quietly point out constellations. "You see that one there? That's Orion, the hunter. Ancient people used Orion to predict the seasons, did you know that? If it appeared at midnight, the grapes were ready to harvest. If it appeared in the morning, summer was beginning. If it appeared in the evening, winter had arrived. And that one right there is the Big Dipper. Though, it technically isn't even a constellation. It's an asterism. That's a familiar group of stars within a constellation…."

Tony kept talking for close to an hour—some of the constellations he pointed out were real, and some he just made up. He was in the middle of telling the story of Canis Major when Pepper nudged him, "Look," she whispered, "Harley's asleep."

He was. He'd drifted off sometime between Perseus and Andromeda. Tony and Pepper carefully dislodged him from between them. Tony folded up the blanket as Pepper scooped Harley into her arms. "You know," she said to Tony as they walked back inside, "We're not half-bad at this. This whole…pseudo-parenting thing."

Tony smiled, "We are pretty good, aren't we?" he said, "We have always made quite the pair."

They gently tucked Harley back into bed, taking care not to disturb his sleep. Pepper turned to Tony, "What if he wakes back up?"

Tony absently brushed a stray lock of hair off of Pepper's forehead, "Then we'll come back in here," he answered, "And we'll wait until he falls back asleep. It's going to be okay."

Pepper nodded and kissed Tony before she left the room. Tony followed her, but he paused in the doorway before he flicked off the light.

It _was_ going to be okay. It had to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**So, this is my second update in, like, twelve hours and I feel like I need to reassure y'all-I NORMALLY HAVE A LIFE. I swear. But I'm on summer break, and since I'm a swim coach and a lifeguard, my jobs don't start until the end of May. So, for now, I don't have all that much to do during the day. Hence, the insane amount of updating.**

**But y'all are fabulous and so are your reviews. Here's chapter three!**

* * *

Getting to okay wasn't going to be easy, though. The universe was doing an excellent job making certain of that.

There was, of course, the obvious—the circumstances under which Harley had come to live with Tony and Pepper were less than ideal. They were making the best of the situation at hand, and so was Harley. Some days were good, and some days were…well…not so good. Tony and Pepper were still searching for a good child therapist; Harley had seen a few, but he hadn't connected with any of them. Pepper and Tony were doing their best to make sure that this new normal became the _only_ normal.

But, of course, there was also all the legal red tape to worry about, too. Tony had gone to court just before they left Tennessee, and he'd been awarded temporary guardianship of Harley—temporary being the key word. It wasn't a permanent fix. Though, the judge _had_ assured Tony that he absolutely would be awarded permanent guardianship if he applied for it. That usually went to family members, but considering that Harley didn't have any family members—Tony and Pepper were the next best thing.

It was going to be a lot of time and paperwork, but that wasn't what worried Tony. No, he was mostly worried about how Harley felt about the whole state of affairs. He did seem to be adjusting as well as could be expected, but Tony wasn't entirely certain that Harley understood all the logistics of the situation, either. He was only ten, after all.

It had been a popular conversation topic between Tony and Pepper over the last few weeks—how were they supposed to go about explaining all this? They didn't want Harley to feel pressured into anything, and they wanted to make sure he knew that his opinions were the most important.

They'd yet to come up with any satisfactory solutions. Each answered questioned revealed a new problem. So, for now, Tony and Pepper had decided to put the legal concerns aside, and instead focus on helping Harley get used to his new life.

Of course, Tony and Pepper knew they couldn't deny the existence of those problems forever. There was a hearing in Tennessee in three weeks. If everything went according to plan, Tony would be awarded permanent guardianship of Harley.

In order for things to go according to plan, though, Tony and Pepper needed to first come up with one.

* * *

"Pepper, are there any toaster waffles left?"

"There should be a few in the freezer, buddy."

Harley and Pepper were eating breakfast in one of Stark Tower's many kitchens. Pepper hadn't always sat down for breakfast. In fact, she used to just take her coffee and oatmeal into her office and eat there, so she could get a jumpstart on the work day.

But ever since Harley had come to live with them, Pepper had found that she really, truly enjoyed spending the first hour of her morning just relaxing. Sometimes she'd talk with Harley, and sometimes they wouldn't talk at all. Either way, it was nice. Cozy.

Pepper was surprised at how quickly she'd warmed to Harley, and vice versa. It wasn't that she had been expecting the worst _exactly_, but she'd never really thought of herself as the nurturing type, either. She and Tony had never talked about starting a family. It was an unspoken agreement between the two of them that bringing a child into the busy, self-absorbed life they shared wasn't something they could do.

But then, Harley had come along. And he'd come bearing Pepper's maternal instincts.

"Hey, Pepper?"

"Yeah, Harley?"

"How long have you known Tony?"

"Oh, wow," Pepper said, "I'm not sure. I started working for him…ten years ago, I guess? Maybe twelve?"

"Oh," Harley said.

"Why?"

"Just wondering," Harley shrugged.

Pepper nodded and went back to pouring her coffee.

"Pepper?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you like working with Tony?"

Pepper smiled, "Sure I do. Most of the time, anyway."

"Not all of the time?"

"Well," Pepper said, "No one enjoys working with another person all the time, sweetheart. Tony and I have been known to…butt heads, from time to time."

"Like, argue?" Harley asked.

"Exactly that," Pepper answered before she took a bite of oatmeal.

Harley grinned slyly at his toaster waffles, "You probably win a lot, don't you, Pepper?"

Pepper laughed out loud, "Absolutely. Far more often than Tony would like to admit."

"What am I admitting?"

Tony wandered into the kitchen and deposited a kiss on top of Pepper's head, "What am I admitting?" he repeated.

Harley and Pepper shared a look and giggled, "Oh, nothing," Pepper said airily.

"Yeah, nothing," Harley parroted.

"We were just talking, weren't we Harley? Nothing important," Pepper said.

Harley nodded earnestly before going back to his waffles. Tony looked skeptically at Harley, then Pepper, "Keeping secrets from me in my own kitchen," he said, "I see how it is. No, don't apologize. I'll just go back to the lab and lick my wounds in private."

Pepper rolled her eyes, "Oh, eat some breakfast and quit being such a drama queen."

"Wow, bossy," Tony commented.

"You like it when I'm bossy," Pepper murmured, one eyebrow quirked.

Tony discretely cleared his throat and nodded in Harley's direction. Pepper blushed. Oh, yeah. Remembering that there was a kid in the house and that there were certain things they couldn't do in front of him—that was turning out to have the biggest learning curve of all.

"Are guys going to kiss or something?" Harley sounded disgusted.

Pepper smiled, "Well, now that you mention it…."

She gave Tony a brief kiss on the lips, while Harley pretended to gag behind them.

"Who's the drama queen now?" Tony teased.

The three of them finished their breakfast in a happy silence that was occasionally interrupted by moments of chatter—mostly from Tony.

Oatmeal, Pepper decided, somehow tastes better when you don't eat it alone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys!**

**So, I thought about waiting to post this to maybe try and curve my crazy updating spree-but it was done, so I figured, why not? Bruce Banner makes a surprise appearance, so get excited!**

**I don't own Iron Man or any of the characters-just the story I'm making up.**

**And thanks, y'all, for all the reviews! You're all very lovely.**

* * *

Harley was bored.

He wasn't sure how you could be bored while you were in Stark Tower, which was full of the coolest gadgets money could buy, and quite a few that money couldn't. But he was.

He was so _bored_! Even school would be better than this, and he hated school. Tony and Pepper had decided that he wasn't going to start going to school again for a while—they told him that getting adjusted (people were using that word a lot lately) and feeling comfortable were more important. Harley had been thrilled, at first, but not having school school left big expanses of empty in his days that he had no way of filling.

Harley decided to see what Tony was doing. He found him in one of the tower's labs—working on an invention. Harley joined him for a while and tried to help. Tony was patient, to a point, but the fifth time Harley knocked something over in his eagerness to assist, Tony snapped, "Harley! Jesus Christ, you're doing more harm than good. If you aren't planning on _actually_ helping me, then get out."

"Fine!" Harley snapped in return, "I'll go find Pepper. She's more fun than you anyway."

So, with a sigh and an eye roll, Harley scampered from the lab. He did manage to find Pepper after a few minutes of looking…only to discover she was in the middle of a conference call.

"Hey, Pepper?" Harley whispered from the doorway. Pepper looked up and smiled at Harley.

"Excuse me," Pepper said into the phone, "I need to put you on hold for just one moment. Is that alright? Wonderful."

She put down the phone and turned to Harley, "What's going on, pal?"

Harley looked down at his feet—embarrassed, suddenly, that he was interrupting her. It seemed so insignificant, really, his being bored. He didn't want Pepper to think he was a complainer; he didn't really worry about what Tony thought, but Pepper was different, somehow.

"Oh, nothing," Harley said, "I just…nothing."

Pepper looked at him carefully, "Are you sure?"

Harley nodded, "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Well, if you're certain," Pepper said, "I really need to get back to this call. We can all do something fun later, okay? Go out for ice-cream, maybe? It'll be great. I promise."

But Harley didn't know exactly how much later _later _was. He knew from experience that when grown-ups said "later", it could mean anything from one hour to eight. So, for now, he was stuck wandering around Stark Tower and looking for something—_anything _—to do. His mom would've said all he was looking for was trouble—

Harley swallowed hard at the thought of his mom. He was trying not to think about her too much, because it meant he didn't have to feel the missing. But he couldn't help it. She was just always there—same as the scar on his forehead and the rod in his arm.

Harley spent the next hour or so poking his head in the many, many rooms of the tower. He didn't know what he was expecting to find, but it was better than sitting around and staring at the ceiling. Besides, it was a good way of keeping his mind off of…well…her.

So, imagine Harley's surprise when he threw open a door expecting to find nothing, and instead discovered none other than Dr. Bruce Banner.

Brow furrowed, Bruce was writing feverishly into a notebook, so he didn't notice Harley right away. Harley, in turn, just stood and stared—mouth agape—at one of his main life heroes. _That's the Hulk!_ His brain was going a thousand miles a second. _It's really him! It's Dr. Banner! It's an Avenger! It's him! What do I say? Do I say anything? Should I just leave? What if he doesn't like me? Has Tony told him about me, even?_

Harley's rapidly careening train of thought was, luckily, disrupted when Bruce looked up and said, "Hey, uh, Harley, right?"

Harley snapped to attention and managed to stammer out, "Yeah! I—I mean, yes, I'm Harley. That's me. Harley. Yeah."

Bruce smiled slightly, "It's nice to finally meet you. I know I'm not, uh, around much. Sorry about that. I tend to lose track of time when I'm working, you know?"

Harley _didn't_ really know, but he nodded all the same, "He told you about me? Tony told you about me, I mean?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," Bruce answered, "He told all of us, actually. He seemed pretty excited about the whole thing."

"Really?" Harley asked.

"Sure," Bruce said, "We were all pretty…surprised, to say the least, when we found out."

Harley's chest tightened uncomfortably at Bruce's admission. His face flaming, he shifted his gaze down towards his sneakers. Bruce sensed that what he'd said had upset Harley somehow, and he rushed to reassure him, "Not because he didn't want you here or something! It's just, you know, a pretty big shock to find out your friend's adopted a kid since you last saw him a few weeks ago."

Harley looked up quickly at "adopted", "He hasn't adopted me yet," he said, more sharply than he intended, "We don't even know if that's going to happen, okay?"

Bruce looked bewildered at Harley's response, "No, yeah, I know. I just couldn't come up with the more appropriate…legal term, I suppose," he said.

"It's fine," Harley said, feeling slightly self-conscious about his harsh response, "You couldn't have known."

Bruce nodded and the two of them lapsed into silence—a distinctly awkward one. Harley scuffed his toes at the doorframe as Bruce tried to puzzle out whatever was in his notebook. Harley, finally, managed to break through the quiet, "What are you doing?" he asked shyly.

Bruce looked up, and beckoned for Harley to come over to the desk, "It's just some formulas," he explained, "Tony's working on a few new inventions, and he had questions about logistics and the like. So, ideally, my math will answer them."

"Couldn't he figure it out himself?" Harley asked.

Bruce snorted, "Probably. But I'm going to let you in on a secret—our friend Tony can be pretty lazy."

Harley laughed, and Bruce smiled at him. "You want to know how these equations work?"

Harley nodded excitedly. "Good," Bruce said, "Go grab a stool."

Once Harley was situated next to him, Bruce began his explanation, using the simplest terms he knew, "Well, on this one—for starters—you need to first think of what an electric field actually is. It's just a ratio of the force felt by a charge, right? Right. Now, this is useful if you know the magnetic field and the amount of charge, but it's _not_ useful in defining the electric field with respect to distance. What can we do in this case, then? Well, we can relate the electric force of attraction of two charges to distance…."

Bruce continued to talk and Harley continued to listen, occasionally interrupting to ask a question, or for clarification. This went on for over an hour, and it probably would've gone on even longer than that—had Tony not poked his head into the room and interrupted them.

"I see you two have met."

Harley and Bruce looked up at Tony. "He's teaching me about quantum physics," Harley said.

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Really? Huh. You're a braver man than I am, Banner. I don't think I'd have the patience to teach the monster here anything."

Harley stuck his tongue out at Tony, before he turned to Bruce and said, "Thanks for showing me all this, Bruce."

Bruce smiled, "Sure thing, Harley."

Harley hopped down from his stool and trotted towards the doorway. Halfway out, though, Tony gently grabbed him. He leaned down to Harley's level and murmured, "Hey, I'm…sorry I yelled at you earlier today. I—it's just—you know," Tony faltered, (apologies were _not _his forte), but managed to continue, "Work can be frustrating. But I shouldn't have taken those frustrations out on you. And I'm very sorry."

Harley half-shrugged and smiled, "It's okay."

"So we're good?" Tony asked.

Harley nodded in affirmation, "We're good."

Tony ruffled Harley's hair, "Great. Now, come on. I think Pepper may have mentioned something about getting ice-cream," Tony turned to Bruce, "You're welcome to tag along, if you want, Bruce."

"Please come, Bruce!" Harley pleaded, "It'll be great."

Bruce laughed, "How could I say no to that? I think I'm just about done here, anyway."

Harley yelped excitedly, "I'll go get Pepper!" and ducked out of the room.

Bruce and Tony watched him go. "He's a good kid, Tony," Bruce said.

"Yeah, he is," Tony agreed quietly.

"He's lucky you found him," Bruce said.

Tony nodded absently, and Bruce continued, "You know, I think you're lucky you found him, too."

Tony smiled slightly at a spot in the distance, "Yeah," he said, "I really think you're right."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey kidlets! So, this is the last chapter I had "pre-prepared", I guess you could call it. So, this, I think, brings the fast and furious updating to an end. But, I will continue trying to update within reasonable time constraints!**

**A few of y'all have asked if/when I'm going to bring in the other Avengers. I ****_can _****tell you that I'm planning on including all of them at some point in the story. But, I want to make sure that happens organically. I don't want it to be a parade of awesome characters that goes nowhere, you know? I don't always know where my stories are headed, but I do like them to have some semblance of plot.**

**As usual, the characters of Iron Man don't belong to me. Sigh. If only, if only.**

* * *

"No! Mom, wake up!"

Pepper and Tony had started taking Harley's nightmares in shifts, because there were almost always two or more in a night. If Pepper took the first one, then Tony took the second, and vice versa. It was a routine they'd become accustomed to, even if they weren't exactly thrilled with it.

"_Somebody help, please!"_

"Pep," Tony murmured sleepily, "Pepper, it's Harley. Your turn."

Pepper yawned and staggered out of bed, "I know, I know. I'm going," she mumbled.

Pepper walked down the hall and opened the door to Harley's room. She sat down on the bed and brushed Harley's hair back from his face, "Harley," she said softly, "You're just having a nightmare. Wake up, sweetheart. You're okay. I'm here, and everything's safe now."

Harley sat bolt upright and looked wildly around the room until his eyes fell on Pepper. His mouth trembled and he burst into tears. Pepper pulled him into her arms and said, "Whoa, Harley, it's okay. You're okay. You're safe, and I'm here."

"I'm so—so sorry," Harley sobbed, "Pepper, I—I—I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—to wake you up!"

"Hey, it's fine," Pepper soothed, "You don't need to apologize. It was just a bad dream, that's all."

Harley continued to cry and Pepper hummed a lullaby her mother used to sing for her. Twenty minutes passed, and Harley had calmed down enough that Pepper thought it was safe to tuck him in and head back to her own bed. But as she tried to untangle her arms from Harley's, he grabbed her wrist and looked groggily into her eyes, "Please don't leave," he begged.

Pepper sat back down and let Harley curl up against her, "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him.

They stayed like that until morning. Pepper rocked Harley while he slept.

* * *

It was 3 p.m. the next day, and Tony and Harley were sitting silently in rush hour traffic. They were headed to the Upper East Side for an appointment with yet another child therapist. Harley was less than ecstatic about the whole thing, "I didn't like any of the other people I've seen so far," he'd argued earlier, "What makes you think I'm going to like this lady?"

Pepper had explained, "Dr. Fields comes highly recommended, Harley. I've heard some wonderful things about her. It's really important to me, and to Tony, that you give this a shot. You've been through a lot in the last couple weeks, sweetheart. More than most people have to go through in their whole lives. You need to talk to someone about it."

"Why can't I just talk to you and Tony?"

"We _love _it when you talk to us," Pepper answered, "And we want you to feel like you can come to us with anything. But, it's also vital that you talk to a professional. Helping people sort through awful, scary things is what Dr. Fields is trained to do."

So, Harley—with only a little bit of feet dragging and eye-rolling—was reluctantly making the trip uptown to Dr. Fields's office. His current mood didn't exactly facilitate conversation, so Tony was filling the spaces as best he could.

"You have a girlfriend back in Tennessee?"

"What's your favorite movie?"

"Do you like Chinese or Thai food better?"

"What are your thoughts on the economy?"

"Patriot Man isn't really _that _cool, is he?"

Tony's questions elicited one word answers if they got answers at all, and he was beginning to get discouraged when he said, "You know, I had to see a therapist when I was a kid, too. I was right around your age, actually."

This caught Harley's interest, "Really?"

Tony nodded, "Yep. It was my mom's idea. She thought I wasn't being open enough with my feelings, or something. My dad thought it was idiotic, though. He always told me, 'You need iron in your backbone to be successful!' Stark men—they don't ask for help. Dad said it was a sign of weakness. So, he made me quit going."

Tony paused before he continued, "At the time, I was glad, because it meant my afternoons were free again. But looking back on it, I wish I'd kept going. I think it might've saved me a lot of problems as an adult."

"I think you're okay," Harley told him.

Tony smiled faintly, "Thanks, kid. I am pretty okay, now. Haven't always been though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Although, I do have a lot of people to thank for helping me get better."

"Like Pepper?" Harley asked, "And Bruce?"

Tony nodded. He waited a few beats before he added, "And you."

Harley's eyes widened, "_Me_?"

"Yeah, you," Tony said.

Harley grinned, "Cool."

"Hey," Tony said, "Don't go telling anyone about this conversation—_especially_ Pepper. The moment she finds out I can be open, or honest, or whatever, she's going to expect that out of me on a regular basis."

"I have to be open to people," Harley pointed out, "Why is it any different for you?"

"Because it is," Tony answered.

"That's some pretty stupid reasoning, Tony."

Tony rolled his eyes, "Smartass," he grumbled.

Harley laughed.

* * *

Dr. Fields had short blonde hair, square black glasses, and a warm smile. Harley liked her immediately, but he wasn't about to admit that without a fight.

"You must be Harley," Dr. Fields said upon meeting him, "I'm Dr. Fields—,"

"I know who you are," Harley muttered.

Dr. Fields ignored the interruption, "But you're welcome to call me Dr. Kate if you'd like."

Harley glowered at his feet, "Dr. Fields is fine," he said.

"Then Dr. Fields it is!" she said, "My office is just down that hallway. Would you mind heading there and waiting for me for a couple of minutes? I need to talk to Tony about a few things. I have plenty of toys, and you're welcome to play with them if you'd like."

Harley turned and walked away without a word. Tony rolled his eyes and turned to Dr. Fields, "He's not exactly thrilled with the idea of therapy," he told her.

Dr. Fields laughed, "Mr. Stark, _most_ of the children brought here aren't exactly thrilled with the idea of therapy. Harley's behavior isn't out of the ordinary at all," she assured him, "Ms. Potts told me over the phone that I'm the…sixth therapist you all have tried?"

"Well, seventh, technically," Tony said, "But Harley doesn't like to count the guy who dressed up as a clown."

"Ah, Dr. Cooper," Dr. Fields said, nodding and smiling slightly, "Yes, his methods are certainly…unorthodox."

Tony snorted, "That's one word for it."

"Well, I certainly hope I'm the right fit for Harley," Dr. Fields said, "But if I'm not, I'd be more than happy to give you the contact information for some of my colleagues."

"Thanks, doctor."

"Absolutely," Dr. Fields smiled, "The child's needs and interests are the most important, of course."

Tony stared at her, "You know," he said, "I think I like you the best already."

* * *

Harley was building a robot out of Legos while Dr. Fields watched patiently from her desk. Their appointment had been going on for close to twenty minutes—but so far, neither person had said anything. Dr. Fields would occasionally jot something down in a notebook, but other than that—not a word.

"Aren't you supposed to, like, ask me questions?" Harley finally said.

"Do you want me to ask you questions?" Dr. Fields said.

Harley went back to his Legos, "No."

"Then I'm not supposed to ask you questions," Dr. Fields answered, "What happens in this office, what we talk about—that's entirely up to you."

"Oh, really?" Harley said skeptically.

"Really."

"Tony and Pepper probably won't like that," Harley warned.

"Why not?"

"Because all they want me to do is talk," Harley said, "That's all anybody wants. That's why I have to come here. They want me to talk about _everything_, even when I don't feel like it. It's the worst."

"Well," Dr. Fields said, "Sometimes talking with people is good. It helps us sort through problems that are too big for us to handle on our own."

"And sometimes," Harley said, "Talking with people is sucky. It makes us think about things we really don't want to think about at all."

"That's fair," Dr. Fields agreed, "Well, Harley, what do _you _want to talk about?"

Harley put his robot aside, "I like superheroes," he said.

Dr. Fields smiled, "So do I."

"Who's your favorite?"

"Hmm," Dr. Fields thought a moment, "I'm afraid this may bit a bit cliché, but I _have_ always liked Superman."

"Yeah, that is pretty lame," Harley said.

Dr. Fields laughed out loud, "Who's _your _favorite?"

Harley looked her straight in the eye, "Iron Man. He was there when I needed him."

Dr. Fields studied Harley carefully, "Yes," she agreed, "He certainly was."

* * *

Forty minutes later, the appointment was over and Harley wandered back into the waiting room to find Tony.

"I like her," he said, "She's staying."

Tony turned towards Dr. Fields, eyebrows raised, "How much did you have to pay him to say that?"

Harley pulled a face at Tony as Dr. Fields laughed, "Harley is a wonderful young man," she said, "I'd certainly like to see him again soon."

"How about—same time next week?" Tony asked.

Dr. Fields looked at Harley, "How does that sound to you, Harley?"

"It sounds great."

"Excellent," Dr. Fields said, "Then I'll go ahead and schedule the appointment now."

Tony and Harley were walking out of the building when Tony said, "I'm glad you liked Dr. Fields so much."

Harley nodded, "She was nice," he admitted, "She didn't make me talk about stuff I didn't want to talk about. I got to pick."

They were quiet until they got back to the car. The doors were shut and the key was in the ignition, but Tony didn't turn it. He, instead, turned to Harley and said, "You know, you _are _going to have to talk about that stuff someday. To me, or Pepper, or Dr. Fields. Whoever. But it's something that needs to happen. Understand?"

Harley nodded, "Yeah," he said quietly, "It's just hard."

Tony sighed, "I know it is, kid. I know."

Neither one of them said anything for a while, but Tony didn't move to turn the car on. They just sat in a silence that was perhaps not comfortable, but certainly contemplative.

"Tony?"

"Yeah, pal?"

"Can we go to the arcade?"

"Absolutely."


	6. Chapter 6

**What time is it? NEW CHAPTER TIME! Woo!**

**It is absolutely cracking me up that so many of y'all had this same idea. Great minds think alike, apparently. I'm glad I'm getting to get it all written down for you!**

**Your reviews were lovely and useful as per usual. You guys are awesome. Seriously. I'm keeping all of your suggestions in mind, and I'll do my best to include them as I write. **

**I ****_do _****have a climax in mind. Not gonna say what it is, but I have an idea of where this story will eventually end up. I will tell you that I think it's gonna be pretty action-packed, though. But before I get there, I'd just like to do some more exploring of the psychology of the different characters, and the relationships between them. **

**So, anyways, on to chapter six! If it's a tad melodramatic, I ****_do _****apologize; it was a lot of fun to write, and I maybe kinda sorta got carried away. Oh, well.**

* * *

The sky was falling down.

At least, that's how it felt to Pepper. Really, it was just snowing. But Pepper had never gotten used to the way the wind sounded during storms and blizzards in New York. It whistled and shrieked between the skyscrapers—reminding Pepper a bit too much of ghosts to be comfortable.

Pepper rolled over to look at the clock on her bedside table. 2:45. She still had a solid four hours of night to make it through before she could start getting up. Oh, just _perfect_. She tried to shut her eyes and go back to sleep, but every gust and crack made her heart skip a beat or two.

It was silly, maybe, but anytime she got uneasy, Pepper couldn't help but think of mass murdering Norse gods and Chitauri warriors and wormholes and _fucking _outer space monsters and, God, she'd _missed Tony's call_—

She bit down lightly on her lip. What had happened, happened. They'd made it through the…ordeal in one piece (mostly), and there was no good dwelling in the past. That had become their unofficial mantra lately. After all, things _were _more stable now and maybe they'd finally be safe once and for—

But _damn_ if that wind didn't sound like some_thing_ landing on their roof. Jesus Christ. Pepper flung back the covers and got out of bed as quietly as she could so as not to wake Tony. She briefly considered rousing him, but he looked so peaceful and still. And it wasn't very often Tony was either of those things.

So, instead, Pepper threw on her bathrobe and padded down the hall. Tea, maybe, would calm her nerves. If nothing else, it would at least offer a distraction for a few minutes. Once she was in the kitchen, she flipped on the lights. She sighed in relief at the warmth and comfort that simple movement brought to the room. Not that Pepper would evertell Tony, because she'd never hear the end of it, but she wasn't a…fan of the dark. She wasn't scared of it! At least, not really. It was just a bit…disconcerting. That's all.

Pepper was dipping a bag of chamomile into a mug of hot water and finally beginning to relax, when a dark shadow appeared in the doorway. Oh, no. This was not happening. _Not happening_. She swallowed and set her tea down carefully on the table. Without turning, she picked up the closest weapon—a knife—and held it tightly. Hoping she sounded more confident than she felt, she said, "You better watch it, because I'm armed!"

"Good to know," the shadow quipped.

A rumpled and pajama-clad Tony stepped into the room. Pepper whipped around, "God_dammit _Tony," she hissed, "Don't do that!"

"'I'm armed'? Really, Pep?" Tony said sardonically, "You doknow that's a _butter_ knife, right?"

"Oh, shut-up," Pepper said, "I made do with what was there. We don't all have dozens of Iron Man suits at our disposal."

"That includes me now," Tony pointed out, "Kind of blew them all up in a brilliant display of fireworks and selflessness. Just, you know, throwing that out there."

Pepper let out a long-suffering sigh, "I know, Tony."

Tony peered into her mug and wrinkled his nose in distaste, "Tea?"

Pepper shrugged, "It helps me sleep."

"I thought I had the market cornered on insomnia."

Pepper rolled her eyes, "Apparently not. Why are you up? You were out cold earlier."

Tony went over to the fridge and busied himself searching for something inside it, "You weren't in bed anymore."

Pepper's eyebrows rose in disbelief, "You could tell?"

"Sure," Tony answered, "Always can."

"How?"

The fridge still muffling his words, Tony answered, "When you're next to me, I'm okay. When you aren't, I'm not."

Pepper's breath caught in her chest. Tony had this subtle, painful way of addressing his fears that was endearing and guilt-wrenching and completely maddening—all at the same time. It was just so off-hand! Pepper couldn't tell if he was trying to protect her or himself, or maybe both of them.

Pepper realized, suddenly, that maybe there was a reason he'd stuck his head in the fridge to begin with.

"Tony," Pepper started, but the words got stuck somewhere in her throat. She swallowed, and tried again, "Tony, I know you've been in a good place since…everything with Killian, and that's wonderful. Truly. But—and I know how opposed you are to this, but hear me out—have you ever thought about maybe going and talking to someone? Just to make sure this good place becomes a permanent state of being?

Tony pulled his head back out of the fridge—a brick of cheddar cheese in hand—and said, "I talk to Bruce."

"Tony!" Pepper said, frustrated, "He's not _that _kind of doctor. How many times do we have to explain that to you?"

Tony waved a hand impatiently, "Semantics. Besides, therapy isn't really my _thing_, Pep. I'm more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-and-hope-for-the-best kind of guy," he said.

"As if I needed reminding," Pepper said dryly.

Tony picked up Pepper's butter-knife-turned-weapon and sliced a piece of cheese off the block. He popped it in his mouth and leaned up against the table—studying Pepper. He swallowed and said, "Why the sudden interest in my mental health?"

"Tony," Pepper said softly, "I care about you. You know that."

"Ah-ah," Tony said, "Don't you pull out the sad eyes. Spill."

Pepper took a sip of tea before she answered, "Harley just mentioned you two had talked about therapy on the way to his appointment with Dr. Fields—"

"I knew it!" Tony exclaimed, "I told him not to say anything to you. If that kid thinks I'm ever telling him anything again, he's out of his mind."

Pepper continued her thought, "But, it's something I've been thinking about long before Harley brought it up. Everyone could use a good dose of therapy every now and again, Tony. Even Iron Man."

With a beleaguered sigh, Tony said, "Fine. I'll try it."

Pepper smiled and folded a kiss into Tony's hand, "Thank-you."

"But if I don't like it, I'm not going back. And trust me—I'm not going to like it."

"Oh, just shut-up and eat your cheese."

* * *

Like most self-respecting ten-year-olds, Harley Keener loved cinnamon buns. So, he should've been thrilled to discover Pepper had made them for breakfast to celebrate the nine inches of fresh snow that had materialized on the streets of New York overnight.

But Harley couldn't get more than three bites of cinnamon bun past the lump in his throat.

He picked at his breakfast half-heartedly while Pepper drank her coffee and read the paper. She looked up from the entertainment section long enough to notice that Harley wasn't eating and said, "Harley, what's wrong? Aren't you hungry?"

Harley shook his head, "Not really."

"Are you getting sick?"

Harley shrugged. Pepper frowned and walked over to Harley's side of the table. Feeling his forehead, she said, "Well, I don't think you have a fever, at least. But maybe you should get back in bed to be safe."

Harley pushed his plate away, "Pepper, no. I'm not sick. It's just—I just—I don't know," he faltered.

"Do you want to try explaining it?" Pepper asked gently.

Harley buried his face in his arms and mumbled something incoherent. Pepper laughed slightly, "Harley, honey, I meant explain it to me—not to the table."

Harley peeked up and quietly said, "My mom used to make cinnamon buns on snow days, too."

Pepper expertly blinked back her tears and wrapped Harley in a hug, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad, buddy," she murmured.

Harley shrugged and tried to put on a brave face, "It's not a big deal. It's not like you could've known or anything."

Pepper smiled sadly, "That's very true."

She picked up Harley's plate and scraped the picked-at cinnamon bun down the sink, and stowed the leftover ones in the fridge. Then, she walked over to the window and watched the snow fall for a few moments.

Still gazing out the window, Pepper said, "You know, I've never been able to work when it's snowing outside. It's just too pretty. I was thinking about maybe going to Central Park, and I'd like to bring a certain ten-year-old along with me. Maybe you know him? He's about four foot five in his bare feet, blonde hair, answers to Harley, and sometimes 'wiseass'?"

Harley laughed, "Pepper!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "It's you! Well, Harley, do you want to come to Central Park with me?"

"Yeah!"

"Great," Pepper smiled, "But you'll need to actually _eat _something first."

"Do we have any toaster waffles?"

* * *

The walk to Central Park was frigid and blustery. Pepper supposed she could have gotten Happy to just drive them there, but she didn't mind the walk. Neither did Harley, it seemed, based on the way he was talking and laughing. He'd occasionally race ahead of her, and then wait patiently on the next corner for her to catch up.

It was nice, Pepper decided. Cold, but nice. Harley's enthusiasm for the weather was so contagious, Pepper managed to forget just how dirty New York snow was. Well, she managed to _almost _forget, anyways.

"Pepper, do you like sledding?"

"One time, in third grade, it was snowing like this and this boy—Tyler Lawson—stuck his tongue to the jungle gym on a dare and it stuck! They had to call an ambulance and everything. But he was a jerk, so I didn't care."

"Whoa, look at how big that snow pile is! Did a plow do that?"

"Would an Iron Man rust in the snow?"

"Do you think snow angels actually look like angels? Because I don't."

"Whoa, slow down, pal!" Pepper laughed, "We have all afternoon, Harley. Let's take it one thought at a time, okay?"

Harley nodded and fell into step next to Pepper. He was doing his best to watch the flakes that were swirling out of the sky, and simultaneously watch where he was going. The third time he almost veered off into the street, Pepper grabbed his shoulders and said, "Harley, I need you to pay better attention, please."

Harley sighed, but said, "Yes, Pepper," all the same. There'd be time for watching the snow fall later, he guessed.

They were at the last crosswalk before the park, waiting for it to turn green. Pepper was about to turn and ask Harley if he wanted to build a snowman or have a snowball fight first, when a rusty low-rider backfired as it sped through the yellow light.

"Idiot," Pepper muttered, "Harley, when you start driving, never, _ever _do what he…."

But Pepper's sentence trailed off when she realized Harley wasn't standing next to her anymore. Her heart began to pound, "Harley? Harley!"

Then Pepper spotted him. He had dropped down to the sidewalk—hands covering his head, he was shaking violently.

"Oh, Harley," Pepper knelt down beside him, "It was only a car, sweetheart. That's all. Just a car."

People were starting to whisper, so Pepper gently helped Harley stand up. He was pale as a sheet; his eyes were wild and unfocused. He drew in a long, shuddering breath. When he let it back out, he started to cry, "I'm sorry," he hiccoughed, "I thought it was another…."

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to. Pepper wrapped her arm around his shoulder, "Come on," she said, "Let's go home."

* * *

"He dropped to the ground?"

"Almost instantly."

It was around 10:30, and Pepper and Tony were getting ready for bed. Pepper was filling Tony in on what had happened during her almost-outing with Harley, "Oh, Tony," she sighed as she put lotion on her hands, "It was just so _sad_. He's had so many good days lately, and even a few good nights. Seeing Dr. Fields has been wonderful for him, too. I thought we were making some progress."

Tony spit out his mouthful of toothpaste before he said, "We were. Still are, in fact. You know what they say—two steps forward and two thousand steps back. Or whatever it is."

He walked into the bedroom and sat down next to Pepper on the bed, "Look, Pep," he began, "It's going to take more than a few weeks and a therapist for Harley to beat this. Trust me. But he _can_ do it. It's just going to take some time."

"I know," Pepper said quietly, "But I just keep seeing that terrified little face—,"

A sudden sob cut off the rest of her sentence. The frustration, anxiety, sadness, and just plain _exhaustion _of the last month finally broke down the dam. Pepper buried her face in her hands and cried harder than she'd let herself cry in a very long time.

Tony—never good with displays of extreme emotion—patted her on the back and said, "Whoa, Pep, calm down. It's okay."

Pepper looked up, "It is _not _okay," she said through her tears, "It's _not_. It's so unfair, Tony! He lost everything that night. He lost his mother, his sister, his home—everything! And I want to make it better, but I can't. I don't know how."

Tony pulled her slim form closer to him and let her cry it out. The thing was—he wanted to make it better, too. And, in spite of all his snark and confidence, he didn't know how to, either.

Tony had a feeling that he and Pepper were never going to be what Harley needed and deserved, and few things were scarier than that.

* * *

**Oh, and bonus points to anyone who picks up on the not-so-subtle reference to the Iron Man 3 Easter egg scene!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everybody! Sorry it took me a bit longer than usual to get this chapter out. I've been really busy. Plus, I was struggling with getting the tone exactly the way I wanted it. I think I've succeeded, for the most part, though I worry that I made Steve come off a bit harsh.**

**All the Avengers make cameos in this chapter! I figured it was the easiest way to introduce them, though I am hoping to write in some one-on-one bits between them and Harley individually. Just a quick FYI-the changes in names aren't discrepancies. I used their hero names in relation to Harley, because that's how he knows them. I used their *actual* names the rest of the time.**

**Hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

* * *

"_Please _can I, Tony?"

"No way."

"Come on!"

"I said no, Harley."

"Give me three good reasons."

"Yeah, huh, about that—I only need one. You ready? Because I said so. That's the reason. The end."

Harley stamped a foot, "_To-ny!"_

Harley was doing absolutely everything he could to convince Tony to let him come to the meeting Fury had called for the Avengers. He had to go—he just _had to_. How could Tony not get that?! Thor was going to be there! _Thor! _He was a demigod, for crying out loud! And Captain America, and Black Widow, and _everybody! _Tony was being _so_ unfair.

Settling on his last resort, Harley made his eyes as wide as they'd go and pouted, "It'd just make me really happy, Tony. Don't you _want_ me to be happy?

"Well, of course I want—wait, a second," Tony narrowed his eyes at Harley, "You're guilt-tripping me again, aren't you?"

Harley shook his head, "No, Tony! I just thought, since I've been through so much and all—"

Tony snorted, "Oh, yeah, _definitely _not guilt-tripping me. Absolutely not," he said sardonically.

Harley offered him an angelic smile, "I'd _never _do that."

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine," he acquiesced huffily, "You win. You can come to the meeting—,"

Harley let out a whoop of triumph and fist pumped the air. Tony held up a hand to silence him before he continued his thought, "But there are three really, really, _really _important rules I need you to follow. Do you want to know what they are?"

"Do I have any other choice?" Harley shot back.

Tony ignored him, "Repeat after me: keep your mouth shut."

"Keep my mouth shut."

"Don't interrupt."

"Don't interrupt."

"And don't ask questions."

"Aw! Can't I ask, like, just a few?"

"What did I just say?"

"But what if Bruce is trying to explain something really complicated and I don't get it, but I want to because I want to learn something new?" Harley protested, "How am I supposed to learn if I can't ask questions?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "Fine! Fine, don't ask _many _questions."

"Okay," Harley nodded, "I can do that." Those rules seemed fair-_ish_, at least.

"Good to know," Tony said, "Because if you can't—three strikes, and you're out of there. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good," Tony smiled, "Now, go brush your teeth. You and I both know you haven't done that yet. I can smell your breath from over here."

Harley gave a quick yelp and darted from the room. Tony gave him a quick swat with his towel as he ran by, "Yeah, that's what I thought!" he called after him.

Ten minutes later, Tony and Harley were both dressed (Harley didn't quite match, but Tony was _not _in the mood to press that particular point), brushed, washed, and headed to one of Stark Tower's board rooms. Harley was so excited he could skip, but he wisely decided that probably wouldn't fly with Tony just now. So, he just walked next to him—doing his best to look serious and important.

When they were just outside the board room, Tony paused and knelt down to Harley's level, "What were the three rules?" he asked.

Harley sighed, "Keep my mouth shut, don't interrupt anybody, and don't ask _many _questions."

"Perfect," Tony said, then paused for a moment, "I saved the most important one for last, though."

"Tony! _More_ rules—?"

"Don't you want to hear what it is before you get all whiny on me?" Tony asked.

"I guess," Harley grumbled.

"Enjoy yourself."

"Huh?"

"That's the most important rule," Tony said, "Enjoy yourself."

With that bit of wisdom imparted, Tony threw open the door and walked into the room—owning it like only Tony Stark really could, "I'm sure you're wondering why I gathered all of you here today," he said, "Looks like the annual Superfriends meeting can officially come to order."

Natasha rolled her eyes without a hint of amusement, "Fury called us here, Stark. And you're late," she said.

"Nah, I'm never late," Tony retorted easily, "You guys are all just very early."

Fury walked into the room, "Trust me, Stark," he said dryly, "You're late."

Tony shrugged, "Whatever. We're getting all caught up in details," he paused before he continued, "I figured I could also take this as an opportunity to, ah, introduce you to someone."

He turned to the door, "Harley? Could you come in here?"

Harley poked his head in the doorway, before promptly disappearing again. Tony stared, "What—are you being shy? Why are you being shy all of the sudden? What's wrong with you?"

He turned to the others, "Gimme a second."

He walked out the door. The other Avengers all shared raised eyebrows at the brief, whispered battle that ensued.

"…Said you wanted—!"

"I didn't know they'd…."

"Harley, so help me I'll—!"

"Do what?"

Tony came marching back into the room, a grumpy-faced Harley in tow, "Everybody, Harley. Harley, everybody," he announced.

"Hi," Harley said quietly, before he ducked behind Tony's back.

Tony threw up his hands in a, "Don't ask me!" gesture. Harley peeked out a few seconds later and caught Bruce's eye. Bruce smiled slightly at him, "Hey, Harley."

Harley stepped fully out from behind Tony and offered the room an awkward little wave. The rest of the Avengers were studying him carefully—some clearly more pleased to see him than others.

Bruce was still smiling encouragingly, which made Harley feel a bit better. Thor and Hawkeye looked more bemused than anything else. Captain America kept looking from Harley to Tony and back again, like he hadn't believed Tony was serious about Harley until right this second. Black Widow was eying Harley suspiciously; Harley had a strange feeling that she didn't know all that much about kids. And Fury looked, well, furious. Though, Harley couldn't help but figure that maybe he looked that way most of the time.

After a few long beats of uncomfortable silence, Tony cleared his throat and said, "So, uh, let's get this party started."

Tony took a seat next to Bruce, and Harley sat down next to Tony. He looked up at Fury expectantly. Fury, in turn, glared suspiciously at Harley and said, "Right….Well, now that we've gotten that particular…_formality_ out of the way…."

He began to talk. Harley found himself getting lost pretty quickly, which was actually just fine. It gave him the opportunity to examine everyone without their noticing. He decided Thor looked the nicest—next to Tony and Bruce, of course—then Hawkeye, Captain America, Black Widow, with Fury in last place. A lot of that had to do with the eye patch, though. Harley vaguely wondered if he was supposed to call them by their hero names, or by their actual names. He figured he could ask later.

Even though Black Widow looked kind of scary, Harley couldn't help but notice that she was really, _really _pretty. Pepper was pretty, too, but this was different. Pepper was pretty like a mom. Black Widow was pretty like a _girl_. He wondered what she smelled like. Vanilla, he decided. Vanilla and gunpowder.

Harley didn't realize just how hard he was staring, until Natasha shot a strange look in his direction and said, "What are you looking at?"

Harley must have jumped close to a foot in the air. Bruce and Tony shared sly grins because they knew _exactly _what Harley was looking at—or, more specifically, _who _Harley was looking at. Harley, his face a brilliant shade of crimson, shifted his stare to his lap and muttered, "Nothing."

Natasha shot a pointed glance at Harley, but didn't say anything in response. Bruce and Tony snickered. She turned her scowl on them, which only made them laugh harder. "Natasha," Bruce said between sniggers, "Lighten up."

"Natasha," Harley suddenly sighed, without realizing he'd spoken aloud.

It was Natasha's turn to blush while Tony tried to muffle his laughter in Bruce's shoulder. Fury, sensing that the meeting had descended into chaos, decided it was time to take a quick five minute break. "When we get back," he said, "Let's try and keep the bullshit to a minimum, shall we?"

His tone didn't leave any room for argument. Even Tony—who didn't seem like he ever listened to anybody—seemed to sense that. As Tony got up to leave, Harley pulled on his shirt, "Sorry I broke up the meeting and everything, Tony," he said.

Tony grinned, "Nah, it was okay. We'd only just gotten started, anyway. And don't worry about Natasha. She's not nearly as scary as she likes to pretend she is. But, hey," he began, more seriously, "You can't interrupt like that anymore, okay? It was funny that one time, but not again."

Harley, feeling chastised yet somehow still reassured, settled into his chair and waited for everyone to return.

* * *

When they readjourned, everyone—Tony included—was on their best behavior. Harley had a suspicion that Fury's warnings were actually threats in disguise, and you needed to take them to heart. Fury surveyed them all sternly as they took their seats, "I assume we're all ready to get some work done now, right?"

There were a handful of mumbled confirmations in response. "Good," Fury said.

Harley really wanted to watch Natasha (oh, _Natasha_) some more, but he didn't think that was the best idea, all things considered. So, he switched to watching Captain America instead. He looked really serious, Harley decided. Not like Tony, who always looked like he was about to laugh or say something funny.

Harley thought that maybe he could be nice, if he would just smile or relax or _something_. Harley wondered what hanging out with him would be like. He'd probably talk about battle strategies and plans and stuff a lot. Definitely not much fun.

Suddenly, Harley became aware that Tony was speaking, "Really, Rogers?" he sounded annoyed, "You're scolding me? That had absolutely nothing to do—"

"With you?" Captain America answered, "Stark, you have to be kidding me. If you hadn't been taking unnecessary risks—"

Were they fighting?

"Jesus Christ, you will _never_ stop harping on that, will you?"

Okay, yeah, they were definitely fighting.

"You put everyone in danger—"

"Just leaveit! It won't happen again, _Dad_," Tony sneered.

"Watch it, Stark," Steve warned, "Maybe if you weren't such an arrogant bastard—"

Hey!

"Don't call him that!" Harley cried angrily.

Everyone turned to stare at him, but Harley was too riled up to care, "Don't you call him that!" he repeated.

"Harley—" Bruce warned quietly, but Harley ignored him.

"I think you're mean!" Harley yelled, near tears at this point, "And stupid, and—"

But Harley didn't get to name the third thing in his litany, because Tony grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him out of the room before he got the chance.

"What did I tell you about interrupting?" Tony said quietly—dangerously—once they were out in the hall.

"But, Tony—"

"What did I tell you?"

Harley sighed, "Not to do it. But Tony, he—"

"I don't want to hear it," Tony said angrily, "What you did in there was not acceptable. You embarrassed yourself, and you embarrassed me. I'm disappointed in you, Harley."

Harley began crying in earnest, "Tony—!"

"Save it," Tony said sharply, "You, my friend, are grounded."

Righteous anger at being punished by the person he'd been trying to defend began to course Harley, "No," he said hotly.

"Excuse me?" Tony hissed.

"No!" Harley repeated, "You can't make me! You can't make me do anything!"

"Do you want to test that statement?" Tony said.

"You're not my Dad!" Harley yelled before he burst into tears and sprinted away.

Well, _shit_.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose to preempt the oncoming headache. He stuck his head into the board room, "I'll be back," he said shortly.

"Stark—" Fury said, a dangerous warning tone to his voice.

"I said I'll be back," Tony repeated tightly.

He was about to leave when Steve's voice stopped him, "Hey, Tony?"

Tony stiffened and turned around, "What?"

"I'm sorry," he said honestly, "I didn't mean to upset him."

Tony nodded curtly. He knew that, and he forgave Steve.

But he didn't need to let him know just yet.

* * *

One of the main benefits to Stark Tower was also one of its main drawbacks—it was _huge. _Tony sighed. Harley could be anywhere by now. "JARVIS," he called, "Any clue where Harley might've run off to?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the AI answered, "But I was given explicit instructions to not divulge his whereabouts."

Tony groaned, "JARVIS, I'm not messing around. Tell me where he is."

"I'm sorry, sir, but—"

"JARVIS, so help me, I will disconnect your circuits so fast—"

"He's on the roof, sir," JARVIS finally answered.

Of course he was on the roof; that was the first place he should've looked. Tony had a feeling Pepper would've thought of that right off the bat, and he wanted to punch himself in the neck for being so dumb.

The elevator ride to the roof was a long one, and it gave Tony ample opportunity to get very, very nervous. When the elevator got to the 20th story, Tony decided that maybe he'd been too hard on Harley. When it got to the 35th story, Tony wondered if maybe he should apologize. And, by the time it reached the top of the tower, Tony was filled to the brim with a deeply unfamiliar emotion—guilt.

Tony stepped outside, but he didn't spot Harley right away. He was about to yell at JARVIS for giving him a red herring, but then a few quiet sniffles caught his attention. He frowned, and followed their source. The source, he discovered, was a small blonde boy curled up in a far corner—crying quietly into his lap.

Harley glared up at Tony, "Go away," he sobbed, "I don't want to talk to you. Ever. You're awful and I hate you."

Tony sat down next to him, "Okay," he said softly, "I deserved that."

Harley stared angrily at the ground and didn't answer. Tony, for once in his life, kept quiet, too. Wisely, he sensed that Harley needed to be the one to initiate this particular conversation. They sat in a tense silence for—Tony counted—nine minutes and forty-seven seconds. Harley, finally, drew in a deep breath and said in a broken little voice, "I only wanted to help you."

Without thinking twice about whether or not he was doing the right thing, Tony drew Harley into his arms, "I know. And I'm sorry, Harley," he said.

Harley buried his face into Tony's chest and began to cry again. "Just keep crying, buddy," Tony murmured, "Until you don't need to anymore. It'll be okay. I'm here."

Harley's cries eventually slowed to hiccoughs, then sniffles, and finally stopped. He pulled his face up from Tony's shirt, "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said miserably.

"Me, too," Tony said honestly, "But, I guess I deserved it. I wasn't exactly as patient with you as I could've been."

"Are you mad?" Harley asked.

Tony weighed his words carefully, "I'm not…mad," he finally said, "I'm disappointed in the way you behaved, and I'm unhappy that we fought. But I didn't handle the situation the way I should have. I think we both said things we're not proud of."

Harley nodded, "I think so, too."

"Let's make a deal," Tony said, "I promise not to lose my temper that quickly anymore, provided that you try and control yourself better. Deal?"

He held out his hand for a shake. Harley looked at it for a second, and then accepted the gesture, "Deal."

Tony ruffled his hair, "Good," he said, "Let's go back inside."

They walked backed towards the door—Tony's arm wrapped around Harley's shoulders.

"Hey, Tony?" Harley asked when they were waiting for the elevator.

"Yeah, pal?"

"Am I still grounded?"

"You bet you are."

"_To-ny!"_


	8. Chapter 8

**Update time! Woo! Seriously, I can't stress enough how much y'all's reviews mean to me. They're all very sweet and, even better, very helpful. **

**I considered including the hearing itself in this chapter, but there were so many other things that I wanted to go along with it, that I decided I would just give it its own chapter. I didn't want this one to get too long. **

**This is kind of a sad, dramatic chapter again; the story'll get lighter again! I promise. But I just need to work my way through the gloomy stuff first. **

**Oh, and I'm sorry sorry that the link to my friend's story didn't show up. I'll try it one more time: it's archiveofourown works/756760. It's a .org address, but I can't include that on here, for whatever reason.  
**

**As usual, I don't own any of the characters. (Well, except for Dr. Fields.)**

**Now that we've gotten all the housekeeping out of the way, here's chapter eight! **

* * *

After the S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting incident, things were strange between Tony and Harley for a few days. Not bad, just…strange. Their relationship had changed; the changes were subtle, that was true, but they were still there. They needed to reconfigure where they stood, and that took time.

But time passed, like time always does. They went through the day-in and day-out of their various routines; things were good, for the most part, except when they weren't. Then, suddenly, the guardianship hearing was less than twenty-four hours away. Pepper and Tony had sat down with Harley to address his questions and concerns, "Harley," Pepper had said, "You know, in just a few days, we're going to be back in Tennessee."

"Yeah, I know it," Harley had said, "For that thing in court, right?"

"Yes," Tony had said, "For that thing in court. What's going to happen, Harley, is that I'm going to be declared your official legal guardian."

"But only if that's what you want, Harley," Pepper had assured him.

"That's right," Tony had agreed.

"Well, what happens if I _don't_ want that?" Harley had asked.

Pepper had tried to squash the quick stab of hurt his question had caused, "Well, Harley, then your case would be turned over to your social worker, and you'd be placed in the care of foster parents."

"Would I still get to see you guys?"

"I don't know for certain," Tony had said honestly, "But probably not."

Harley had thought about this, "I really do want to live here," he'd finally said, "I only asked because I want to know, you know, everything. I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything like that."

"We really want you to live here too, sweetheart," Pepper told him, "And don't worry about hurting our feelings. It's important that you feel comfortable talking to us about this. It's a major change in your life, and we want you to feel in control of what's happening."

"Will my last name be Stark, after this? Instead of Keener?" Harley had asked.

"No," Tony had answered, "That only happens in the case of adoption."

"What's the difference? Between adoption and guardianship, I mean."

Tony had done his best to explain, "In adoption, I'd be considered your parent—our legal relationship would be permanent. Adoptive families aren't supervised by the court anymore, either. On the other hand, the court _does _supervise a guardianship, and—under certain circumstances—they can terminate it."

"Are you going to adopt me later on?" Harley had asked.

"Again, only if that's what you want," Tony had answered, "But for now, we just need to take it one step at a time, okay?"

"Okay," Harley had agreed.

"Do you have any more questions?" Pepper had asked.

"I have two," Harley had said, "Once all this is over, do I start calling you guys Mom and Dad?"

"If that would make you happy, then absolutely," Pepper had told him, "But if you're not ready for that just yet, then you can feel free to keep calling us Tony and Pepper."

"What's your second question, buddy?" Tony had asked.

Harley had stolen an uncertain glance at Pepper, "You and Pepper aren't married," he said.

Tony had looked curiously at Harley, "No," he said slowly, "We're not."

Harley had squirmed around nervously before he continued, "So, then…how does this work? How is she allowed to be my guardian, too?"

Pepper and Tony had exchanged a look. This was a question they hadn't stopped to consider. They lived together, they did things together, they slept together, they shared their lives together; it felt so much like they were married, that they'd forgotten they _weren't_.

Pepper had been the one to finally answer, "I'm actually not sure how that works, Harley," she'd said, "But I know we'll figure something out. We always do."

Now it was the night before they were scheduled to leave, and Pepper and Tony were lying in bed—each doing a very poor imitation of a sleeping person. They both had things they wanted—needed—to talk about, but neither was willing to disturb the calm. In the bathroom, a faucet drip, drip, dripped the passage of time.

Pepper, finally, rolled over onto her side, "Tony?" she whispered, "You awake?"

"You know I am," he murmured sleepily.

"I'm worried about tomorrow."

"Don't be," Tony yawned, "Everything'll be just fine."

"How can you be so relaxed about this?" Pepper asked.

"Because there's no sense worrying about stuff I can't control, Pep. If something bad happens, then something bad happens. We'll cross that bridge if we ever come to it," Tony answered before pressing an absent kiss to Pepper's temple.

"Well, aren't you the calm guy," Pepper said softly, "When did that happen?"

"Around the same time I came home from Tennessee with a ten-year-old kid in tow," Tony said, "It's been an exercise in rolling with the punches."

"It certainly has," Pepper agreed.

They fell quiet again. In fact, they were quiet for so long that Pepper was certain that Tony had fallen asleep next to her when she asked, "Have you been thinking about what Harley said? About us not being married?"

The sheets rustled as Tony shifted in bed next to her, "A little bit," he admitted guardedly, "Why?"

"It was a good question," Pepper said, "Why aren't we? It _would_ make sense, on a variety of levels."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Tony," Pepper sighed, frustrated, "This kind of underwhelming response is _not _what most women want to hear when they bring up the prospect of marriage to their boyfriends."

"Pepper," Tony mumbled, "It's late, and we're both tired. This conversation isn't going to end well. Can't we just have it in the morning?"

"Fine," Pepper said, hoping Tony couldn't hear the tears in her voice.

The faucet kept up its dripping, and Pepper felt Tony's breathing even out and slow next to her. She gently traced her favorite place on him—the soft, warm spot where jawbone met neck—with her thumb, feeling the light scratch of his beard underneath of it. "What are you so afraid of?" she asked quietly, without expecting an answer.

Pepper nearly didn't get an answer. But, just as she was closing her eyes, there was a barely-conscious mumble.

"Losing you."

* * *

Tony, Pepper, and Harley all boarded the Stark Industries private jet at seven sharp the following morning. Pepper had expected Harley to be out of his head excited at the prospect of riding in such a cool piece of machinery, but he was oddly subdued. He'd barely said anything over breakfast, and, at best, merely picked at his Frosted Flakes.

"He's probably just tired," was Tony's diagnosis, "It is pretty early. Don't read too much into it."

But Pepper was a reader-into of things. She couldn't help it; it was part of her nature. It made her an excellent CEO, but it also had an unfortunate tendency to make her a nervous wreck, too. She kept an eye on Harley as they boarded the plane and it took off, but he didn't notice. He was completely glued to whatever he was playing on his Game Boy.

Tony could tell that Pepper was worried, so he did his best to distract her. He made up fake, funny newspaper headlines and flirted as shamelessly as he could while in the presence of a ten-year-old. But, in all honesty, they could've started groping each other across a row of seats for all Harley cared. He was in his own little world.

Tony's distractions sort of worked, for a while, but Pepper's Harley concerns eventually won over and just as they were starting to land, she found herself saying, "Harley? You're awfully quiet today. Everything okay?"

Without looking up from his game, Harley answered, "Yeah."

Pepper shot a look at Tony, signaling that it was his turn to try, "What are you playing?" he asked.

"Pokemon."

"Is it fun?" Pepper asked.

"What do you think?" Harley responded nastily.

"Hey! Watch your tone, Harley," Tony warned.

"_Watch your tone, Harley_," Harley imitated.

"Harley!" Pepper exclaimed, "What on Earth has gotten into you?"

"Nothing!" Harley yelled, throwing his Game Boy down, "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Pepper and Tony exchanged bewildered glances; well, Pepper's glance was bewildered, anyway. Tony's was closer to livid. He already had an angry retort waiting on his lips, but Pepper placed a warning hand on his arm. "Just leave it for now," she mouthed.

Tony's mouth closed, then opened again. Finally, he let out a long, frustrated sigh, rolled his eyes, and flopped back in his seat. All occupants of the jet were quiet until it touched down.

* * *

Once they were back on the ground, Tony, Pepper, and Harley headed over to their hotel. Instead of going back to New York immediately after the hearing was over with, they'd decided it was a good idea to stay in Tennessee for an extra day. Dr. Fields had been the one to suggest it, "It would be a good form of closure," she'd said, "Let him show you where he grew up—his favorite spots, his school, his friends' houses. It's going to be hard on him, I'll tell you that now, but it's something you all need to do. Harley needs to face his past so he can begin moving on."

The hotel they were staying in was a Holiday Inn Express. Tony usually preferred places with a bit more flash, but Holiday Inn was about as flashy as Chattanooga got. The upside—the rooms were so inexpensive that Pepper had been able to reserve an entire floor. Anytime she and Tony went somewhere, the media had a field day. Considering the circumstances that had brought them to Tennessee, she had a feeling there was going to be an absolute _circus_, and she wanted to minimize that for Harley as much as possible.

"You'll be in room 425, Mr. Stark," the young desk clerk told Tony breathlessly when he checked in, "Here's your key."

Tony treated her to a slow half-smile, "Well, thanks very much," he said.

"You're welcome," she answered faintly.

Pepper rolled her eyes as she watched Tony flirt the poor girl into a tizzy. She wondered, briefly, what it said about their relationship; that this was something that didn't even faze her. She shook it off. She looked over at Harley, who was sitting cross legged in one of the lobby's plush armchairs. He was staring, unfocused, at some point in the distance. Pepper sighed. He looked so sad, and so old—but also, somehow, very young and vulnerable at the same time.

Tony tapped Pepper on the shoulder, shaking her from her thoughts, "C'mon," he said, "Let's bring our stuff upstairs. If we hurry, we can get lunch before we go to the courthouse."

Pepper nodded, "Harley!" she called, "We're going up."

Harley slid out of the chair and walked to the elevator without a word. They made quick work of unpacking their things once they were in the room. At least, Pepper and Tony did. Harley threw himself down on one of the double beds and went back to his Game Boy.

"Hey, buddy," Tony said, trying to keep things pleasant, "Can you put down the game and unpack, please?"

Harley ignored him. Tony shut his eyes and counted to ten before he said, a little more loudly, "Harley, I meant now."

"I don't care," Harley muttered.

"What did you just say?" Tony asked.

"I said that I don't care!" Harley yelled, "I don't care, I don't care, _I don't care_!"

Tony walked over to the bed and yanked the Game Boy out of Harley's hands, "What the hell is your problem today?" he demanded, patience completely spent.

"Tony!" Pepper exclaimed, but Tony ignored her.

"Answer me right now, Harley," he said.

Harley looked ready to yell back, but his face crumpled before he got the chance. He ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. Pepper turned to Tony, her expression a mix of exasperation, sorrow, and fury, "Now look what you've done," she said, "I told you to just leave it! Something is clearly bothering him, and all you managed to do was make it worse."

"Pepper, I wasn't going to just sit there while he mouthed off to me like that," Tony answered.

"You should've left it to me," Pepper snapped, "You let your temper get the better of you, just like you always do."

"Oh, like you're _so much better_ at this than I am," Tony sneered.

"Well, _I _certainly wouldn't have sent him running to the bathroom in tears—!"

"That's only because you let him get away with everything, which leaves me stuck being the bad guy—"

"Tony, you bring that role on yourself every single time and you know it—"

"Jesus, Pepper, for once in your life, can you just not—?"

"You are _impossible_—!"

"STOP FIGHTING!"

Harley had emerged from the bathroom, his face tear-streaked and swollen, "Stop fighting!" he yelled again.

Pepper and Tony were both momentarily shocked out of their anger. They turned and looked at Harley, who drew in a shaky breath, "It's my fault, isn't it?" he asked.

Pepper hurried over to him and put an arm around his shoulders. Guiding him over to the bed, she reassured him, "No, no, sweetheart. It's not. This is a very stressful day for all of us, and I think it just reached its peak."

Tony joined them, "It's my fault and Pepper's fault that we fought," he said, "Not yours. Though, the attitude you've picked up—that's _completely_ on you. And I'd like to know why it's there to begin with."

Harley leaned into Pepper, who gave his shoulders a quick rub, "We're in Tennessee," he said.

"Thanks for the newsflash, Barbara Walters," Tony said dryly, but Pepper hushed him.

"No, that's not what I meant!" Harley sounded near tears again, "When we're in New York, it's easier to pretend that nothing's different. I mean, things are different, but not…that kind. But here, in Tennessee, I won't be able to think of anything else."

Pepper and Tony traded upset looks from over the top of Harley's head. Harley didn't notice, and resumed talking, "This hearing…it'll mean that Amber and my mom are really gone."

The last part of the sentence was nearly inaudible. Neither Pepper nor Tony knew what to say to make this any easier on Harley; _was _there anything they could say to make it easier? A few tears tumbled off Harley's eyelids and slipped down his cheeks, "It's not fair!" he choked out.

Pepper pressed a hand against her mouth while her own shoulders shook with suppressed sobs. Tony looked long and hard at Harley. "You're right," he said, "It isn't fair at all."

Tony took Harley in his lap, "Harley, my parents died when I was fifteen years old," he told him.

"Really?" Harley murmured into Tony's shirt, "How?"

Tony continued, "Car crash. And, I am sorry to tell you this, buddy, but the hurt that you're feeling right now—it never goes away. Not completely. I wish I could tell you it does, but I can't. Because you'll always miss them. And some days you'll wake up and it won't be the first thing on your mind, but then you'll remember—and the hurt starts all over again. Christmases and birthdays are the worst. There'll never be a moment of clarity, a moment of, 'I understand, and it's okay.' But, day by day, it does get easier. I promise. Pepper and I are going to make sure of that. It may be hard right now, but it's not going to be this hard forever."

Tony put an arm around Pepper and drew her in closer. The three of them sat on the bed, curled in silence, for a long time. Tony wondered if, maybe, if this was the first time Harley had let himself truly grieve for his mother and sister.

"I wish I could stop missing them," Harley whispered suddenly, "I wish it all the time. And then I feel bad, because not missing means forgetting, and I don't want to forget them, either.

"I know, Harley," Tony murmured, "I know."

"Guys?" Harley said, eyes drooping, tired out from crying.

"Yeah, pal?" Tony answered.

"I'm sorry I was such a jerk today."

"It's okay," Tony assured him, "I'm sorry, too."

Pepper nodded her agreement, "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

"You guys?" Harley said again, nearly asleep.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

Pepper gasped, her eyes bright with fresh tears and surprise. Tony squeezed her hand and then said three words that rarely came out of his mouth, "Love you, too."


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, hello my loyal readers! Thanks for all your reviews and continued support; it really does mean so much. This chapter is pretty angsty, but I'm hoping it'll be the last straight-up sad one for awhile! There is some humor in there, though. Gotta keep things at least a little light, right?**

**Still don't own Iron Man or the characters. Enjoy!**

* * *

A brief nap left Tony, Harley, and Pepper in much better spirits, and it was with brighter outlooks that they got ready to go to the courthouse for the hearing. Unfortunately, those bright outlooks lasted all of about six minutes, because the moment they walked out the hotel's doors, they were surrounded by reporters.

"Mr. Stark, what does this strange turn of events mean for Iron Man?"

"Ms. Potts, are you worried about how this is going to affect your career?"

"Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts—would you all mind posing for a family photo?"

"Harley—that's your name, right?—what's it like having Iron Man for a dad?"

Harley took in the scene in front of him with wide, bewildered eyes, "This is nuts," he said.

Pepper grabbed his hand and held it tight, "I know," she told him, "But we just have to make it to the car, and then we're in the clear. Don't let go of my hand, and don't talk to anyone. Just keep pushing forward."

Harley swallowed and nodded. Tony took his other hand, "You ready?" he asked.

"I'm ready," Harley said.

"Let's get this over with," Tony said grimly.

He put on his best media-posterchild-100 watt smile. He squeezed Harley's hand in his own and led the march into battle. The reporters immediately swarmed around them, and Tony damage controlled as best he could, "No comment, no co—hey Andrews, you look good—no, nothing about the Avengers, hey we're kind of in a hurry can you move it along, thanks—"

They'd almost made it to the car when a reporter managed to grab hold of Harley, "Son," he said, a predatory smile on his face, "What's your opinion on this? Do you think Mr. Stark _really_ cares about you? Or do you think it's just a publicity stunt?"

Harley's stomach dropped and his face flamed at the reporter's questions. He was trying to formulate an answer when Pepper stepped close to the man's face, "Leave him _alone_," she hissed furiously.

Tony raised his eyebrows at her, "Nice work, Potts," he mouthed. Pepper gave him a grin and a hasty salute.

With one last cheesy smile for the paparazzi, Tony ducked into the car, followed by Harley and Pepper. Settling back into their seats, Tony and Pepper turned to study Harley for any signs of discomfort or anxiety, "You doing okay after all that, buddy?" Tony asked.

Harley nodded, "I'm alright," he said, "It was pretty bad, though."

Tony grimaced, "Yeah, sorry about that," he said, "Reporter swarms are just one of the many, many perks of knowing me."

"Occupational hazards, more like," Pepper said wryly.

"Very funny, Pep," Tony said, "You know you're crazy about me."

"Don't flatter yourself, mister," Pepper teased.

Tony leaned across Harley to press a quick kiss to Pepper's mouth, doing his best to ignore Harley's groans of protest.

"Quit acting like a ten-year-old," Tony told him.

"I _am_ a ten-year-old," Harley pointed out, "Duh."

"He has a point, Tony," Pepper laughed.

Tony pretended to look wounded, "You two are always ganging up on me," he pouted.

"_Now _who's acting like a ten-year-old?" Pepper asked.

They were all still teasing each other good-naturedly when the car pulled to a stop in front of the courthouse ten minutes later. The atmosphere, somehow, grew instantly more serious. "We're here," Harley said quietly.

Pepper nodded, "Are you ready for this, honey?" she asked.

Harley swallowed hard and tried to look courageous, "I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be," he said.

"That's all that we can ask for," Tony said, then clasped his shoulder, "You can do this, pal. Pepper and I will be right there with you."

Harley looked at Tony, then Pepper. For the first time since the explosion, he let himself really trust.

* * *

The social worker in charge of Harley's case, a woman named Ms. Wade, met them outside the building. She smiled at Tony, Pepper, and Harley, "Good afternoon," she greeted.

"Good afternoon," Tony echoed, "Ms. Wade, I don't believe you've gotten the chance to meet my girlfriend, Pepper Potts, yet?"

"I haven't," Ms. Wade agreed, "It's lovely to meet you, Ms. Potts."

"Likewise," Pepper responded politely.

Ms. Wade returned her attention to Tony, "How's he doing?" she asked, inclining her head towards Harley.

Harley scowled. He hated it when grown-ups talked about him like he wasn't there. Tony shot him a quick warning glance before he answered the question, "I think he's doing well, considering the circumstances. He's been seeing a therapist twice a week."

"That's wonderful," Ms. Wade said, then glanced at her watch, "It's just about time for the hearing. Would you please follow me to Judge Addison's chambers?"

They followed Ms. Wade through the halls of the courthouse, all doing their best to ignore the gawking stares Tony received. "Everyone's very excited you're here, Mr. Stark," Ms. Wade whispered, "It's all anyone's been able to talk about for weeks."

Tony just smiled politely and didn't answer. Ms. Wade led them to the judge's office. She knocked twice on the door, and a man's voice responded, "Come in!"

They walked inside. An older man—probably in his late fifties—was sitting at a large desk in the middle of the room. He looked up and smiled at the little group of four, "Hello, Lauren," he said to Ms. Wade, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"This is Mr. Stark and Harley Keener," she told the judge, "They're here to finalize Mr. Stark's guardianship of Harley."

Tony and Harley stepped forward. Pepper, on the other hand, took several steps back. She felt vaguely uncomfortable, and definitely out of place. "You know," she wanted to say, "Harley is just as much mine as he is Tony's."

But instead, she just gave Harley an encouraging smile and stayed quiet. Tony shook the judge's hand, "Tony Stark," he said.

Judge Addison smiled, "Ah, yes. Iron Man," he said.

Tony offered him a small smile, "Not today," he said.

Judge Addison turned to Harley, "I take it you're Harley?" he asked.

Harley fought the instinct to roll his eyes, "Yes, sir," he said, shaking Judge Addison's hand, "It's nice to meet you."

Judge Addison gestured at the wooden chairs that stood in front of his desk, "Please," he said, "Have a seat."

Tony and Harley obliged; Pepper noted with a smile and more than a bit of affection that they crossed their legs on the same side. "So," Judge Addison began, "How are you all doing today?"

"We're doing fine, thanks," Tony said, and then nudged Harley for his answer.

"Fine," Harley echoed dully.

"Thirsty?" Judge Addison asked, "Hungry? I always keep a box of crackers in my desk."

"I'm okay," Tony said, "How about you, Harley?"

Harley shook his head, "I'm not very hungry," he said quietly.

"Well, then," Judge Addison said, "Let's get down to business. Mr. Stark, we need to talk about your taking guardianship of Harley, here."

Tony couldn't help but respond with his default sarcasm, "Clearly."

Pepper groaned softly. Judge Addison raised his eyebrows, but didn't appear otherwise fazed, "By that, I mean you will be caring for this young man until he reaches the age of eighteen. You will clothe him, feed him, and provide a home and stable environment for him. Do you understand that?"

"He's a genius," Harley offered, a bit snidely, from his seat, "Of course he understands."

Tony put his hand on Harley's arm warningly before answering Judge Addison's question, "I understand."

"Excellent," Judge Addison said, before turning to Harley, "Now, Harley, I have a few questions I need to ask you. Would it bother you if Tony and—" he turned towards Pepper, searching for her name.

"Pepper Potts," Pepper offered.

"And Pepper waited in the hall while I asked them? Ms. Wade will go get them when we're done," he finished.

Harley shrugged, "Sure, whatever," he said.

Tony clapped Harley on the shoulder as he left, "Good luck," he murmured, "And _be polite_."

Harley rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. Judge Addison turned back to Harley once Tony and Pepper were out in the hall, "It's just a few questions, that's all," he said, "First of all, do _you _understand what's happening here?"

Harley forgot his promise to be civil, "Just because I'm a kid," he said, "Doesn't mean I'm dumb."

Judge Addison wasn't thrown, "Then would you mind explaining it to me?" he asked.

Harley sighed loudly, "It means that Tony _and_ Pepper," he added her name pointedly, "Are going to take care of me until I grow up, 'cause my mom can't."

"Very good," Judge Addison said, "I just have one more question. How do you feel about this?"

His question threw Harley. He took a few moments to think, "Well," he said slowly, "I don't want my mom to be…you know…that. But, since she is…that, living with Tony and Pepper is the best thing."

Judge Addison nodded, "You're a smart young man, Harley," he said, then turned to Ms. Wade, "You can bring them back in, Lauren."

Tony and Pepper walked back in, and Tony took his seat in front of the desk. "Everything looks like it's nicely in order," Judge Addison said, "I'll just need you to sign these forms, Mr. Stark, and then you all can go on your way. Are you going back home?"

"We're staying in Tennessee for an extra day or so," Tony answered as he signed.

"Excellent," Judge Addison said, "Leave your address with Ms. Wade, and she'll mail you copies of all these within the week."

As they were leaving, Judge Addison said to Harley, "I am very sorry for your loss, young man. But you're very lucky to have met two people who love you so much."

Harley, his throat too tight for words, just nodded. Tony put his arm around Harley and led him to the door. Pepper kissed the top of his head, "You did great, honey," she whispered, "You were so brave."

"Let's blow this pop stand," Tony announced, "We got places to see and things to do."

* * *

_The worst thing_, Pepper decided as they walked back to the car, _is that the hardest part of the day isn't even over yet. _The hearing was going to seem like a walk in the park compared to what they were going to do next.

Pepper pasted a bright smile on her face as the car began to move forward, "So, Harley," she said, "We were thinking it might be…fun if you showed Tony and me around a little bit? You know, we could go see your school, and your friends' houses. Things like that?"

Harley glanced at her warily, "Why?" he asked.

Tony and Pepper exchanged a meaningful look, "Pepper and I want to know everything we can about you, Harley," Tony answered, "And your past is part of that."

Harley shrugged, "I guess so."

"Where do you want to go first?" Pepper asked.

"My school is fine," Harley answered, "It's on Mountain Creek Road."

Pepper repeated the street name to the driver, and off they went. Pepper and Tony did their best to keep up a steady stream of conversation, but Harley wasn't interested in talking. He just stared absently out the window and watched what used to be his home pass by.

"This is it," Harley suddenly said.

The three of them stepped out of the car and walked towards the front of the large brick building. There was a large sign out front that read "Red Bank Elementary School". It was past four, so the day was over. The playground was quiet and still, and so were Tony, Harley, and Pepper. A swing creaked quietly in the breeze.

Harley was the first to speak, "So this is my school," he said, gesturing towards it awkwardly, "Well, _was _my school, I guess."

Pepper nodded, "Did you like it here?" she asked.

Harley kicked at a rock near his feet, "It was okay," he said.

Tony tried to get a genuine answer, "What was your favorite subject?"

"I liked math," Harley answered, "And science."

They fell silent again. Harley stared at the building with a curious mixture of anger and heartache on his face, "Can we just go back to the car?" he asked abruptly, "Please?"

Pepper nodded, "Sure thing, kiddo."

"Where do you want to go next?" Tony asked, once they were settled, "We could go see some of your friends, or maybe a favorite playground—?"

"Can we go to the diner?" Harley asked softly.

Pepper inhaled sharply, "Sweetheart, I don't know—"

"We can go to the diner," Tony said, interrupting her.

"Tony—" Pepper protested, by Tony shook his head.

They needed to do this. _Harley_ needed to do this.

But that didn't make it any easier.

* * *

The little strip of businesses and houses was just as ruined as it had been when Tony had rescued Harley that fateful night not quite two months ago. It was a ghost town. There were wooden crosses and wilted flowers that marked where loved ones had fallen. There was still debris littering the streets; at least, Tony thought grimly, they had cleaned up the bodies.

He couldn't decide which was worse—the horrified expression on Pepper's face, or the flat expression on Harley's.

They made their way through the rubble silently. Harley walked slightly ahead of Tony and Pepper. Tony, briefly, thought about walking with him, but decided against it. He knew that, if it were him, he'd want to be by himself, too. He offered comfort to Pepper, instead—warming the small of her back with his hand. "Tony," she whispered, "I knew it was going to be bad, but I had no idea it was going to be like this."

"I know, Pep," he said, "I know."

Slow as they were moving, they did, inevitably, reach the diner. Tony and Pepper stood on either side of Harley; a barrier, maybe, against all the things they wished he didn't have to face. Harley stepped through what had once been the doorway, with Pepper and Tony following behind. He stood very still, though he shivered occasionally. Tony wanted to chalk it up to the damp wind, but he had a feeling that wasn't it.

"That's where I found her," Harley said hollowly, "In that corner. She was dead by the time I got here, though. I can't remember if I told her that I loved her before it happened. I think about that sometimes, when I can't sleep. Maybe, if I'd gotten here sooner, I could've helped her. Maybe she'd still be alive."

A short sob escaped Pepper before she turned and buried her face in Tony's shirt. Harley turned around and faced Tony, his eyes blazing, "I want to know why," he said, his dangerously low.

Tony gently untangled Pepper from his arms and knelt down in front of Harley, "I can't answer that for you, Harley," he said.

Harley, his breathing labored, threw a sudden punch at Tony's chest, "I want to know why!" he yelled, "Tell me _why_!"

He went in for another hit, but Tony caught his hand and held it tight, "Lemme go!" Harley shouted.

"No," Tony said simply.

Harley struggled in earnest for a few moments, but eventually gave up. He fell, hard, into Tony's arms, "I want my mom!" he sobbed wildly, "I want her back!"

Tony, his own eyes shining with tears, hugged him tight, "I know you do. I'm so, so sorry, Harley," he murmured.

Pepper got down on the ground and joined the huddle. They stayed like that for a long time—not saying anything, because there was nothing to say. They just rocked Harley, gently, and waited for what happened next.


	10. Chapter 10

**Bonjour, my lovelies! I come bearing an update. Huzzah. This chapter is pure fluff served with a side of goo, but I don't even care because I had a blast-and-a-half writing it. It was definitely a nice break for me after all the angst I've been churning out as of late. Hopefully, it's a nice break for y'all, too!**

**As much as I would ****_love _****to own Tony and Pepper and Harley, I don't. Or Iron Man, for that matter. I just take out the characters and play with them every so often.**

* * *

It was a long and unhappy thirty-six hour period, but like all things—it ended. Before Pepper, Harley, and Tony knew it, they were back on the jet for the quick return trip to Manhattan. "Did you remember to pack everything, Harley?" Tony asked as they boarded.

Harley nodded absently, half-asleep on his feet. He'd been understandably subdued since their trip to the diner, but he did seem—on the whole—more at peace. Tony didn't expect things to be magically fixed from here on out, of course, but he did have a feeling they'd made some pretty significant progress.

But this—this lethargy—that was different than quiet. Harley seemed run-down, maybe even a bit pale. Tony made a mental note to keep an eye on him as the day wore on. Pepper, too, seemed more tired than usual. It had been a difficult few days, Tony rationalized, but still. Something was definitely off with them

Harley curled up on one of the rows of seats and fell asleep just a few minutes after the plane took off. Pepper tiptoed over to him and covered him with her coat. She sat back down next to Tony and laid her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh. "Hey there," Tony said.

"Hi," Pepper answered, her voice a bit hoarse.

Tony frowned, "Are you feeling okay?"

Pepper nodded, "I'm fine," she answered, "Just tired, is all."

Maybe that was all; maybe she was just tired. But regardless, Tony couldn't help the sudden curl of heat in his chest. In spite of the good place he'd been in as of late, he did still have a decent sized list of neuroses. Germs and illness…Tony didn't exactly _do _either of those things. In fact, he tended to avoid them like, well, the plague. Pepper (Tony swears she can read minds sometimes) seemed to inherently sense his discomfort. She sat up, "Tony," she said, "I'm got getting sick. I promise. I just need a decent night's sleep, and I'll be good as new. Don't worry."

"No, yeah, I know," Tony said, "I wasn't worried for _that _particular reason, anyway. I was just checking on you."

Pepper knew Tony far too well to completely take his word, but she did her best to at least give him the benefit of the doubt, "Whatever you say, Tony," she said before she looked over at Harley, "He's so peaceful when he's asleep."

Tony looked over at him, too, "He is," he agreed, "It's lucky for him, really. Makes it easy to forget what a little terror he is the rest of the time."

"Oh, hush, you," Pepper chastised gently, "He's not that bad."

"He's okay," Tony shrugged, and laughed at the look Pepper shot him, "I'm kidding. He's much better than okay. He's fantastic; I'd go so far as to say superior, even."

Her eyes still on Harley's sleeping form, Pepper said, "I can't imagine our lives without him, now. It's funny. Three months ago, if someone had told me I'd be taking care of a ten-year-old kid in a few short weeks, I would've laughed at them."

"Life is weird that way," Tony agreed.

"I feel guilty, sometimes," Pepper admitted, "For being as happy as I am that he's with us, since the circumstances that brought him here are so terrible."

"_Don't_ feel guilty, Pep," Tony told her, "What happened isn't your fault any more than it is Harley's. You're not happy about what happened; you're happy because you care about him. Feeling badly isn't going to change the past. You're there for him now, and that's what matters."

Tony had never told anyone this, but he sometimes felt guilty, too—albeit, for totally different reasons than Pepper. It was _his _fault that Killian had targeted that little area of Chattanooga. He may not have been _completely_ to blame, but some of the blame still did lie on his shoulders. And what killed him most of all was that, maybe, he could have stopped it. He was there for Harley now, sure. But was being there now good enough?

Tony didn't know the answer, and he wasn't certain he _ever_ wanted to know.

The fasten seatbelt signs lit up, "We're landing," Tony said to Pepper, "Should we wake up him up?"

Pepper shook her head, "We still have a good ten minutes until we're back on the ground," she answered, "Let's let him sleep."

So they did. They exchanged quiet conversation in the kind of short-hand that was part-and-parcel of a long relationship. This closeness—this intimacy—it was foreign territory for Tony. He still wasn't sure exactly how to let people in, but he couldn't help but think—as he ran his hands through Pepper's hair—he was definitely improving.

When the seatbelt light blinked off, Pepper stood and walked over to Harley. Shaking his shoulder lightly, she said, "Harley, sweetheart, we're back. You need to wake up now."

Harley mumbled something and pulled Pepper's coat tighter around him. Pepper jostled him again, a little harder this time, "Harley," she repeated, "It's time to wake up."

Harley sat up slowly and looked around, "Where am I?" he asked sleepily.

"You're on the plane, buddy," Pepper answered, "We're back in Manhattan."

Harley rubbed the bleariness out of his eyes and yawned, "Oh," he said.

Pepper pushed a lock of hair back off of his forehead, "Did you have a nice nap?" she asked.

Harley nodded and yawned again, "It was pretty good," he answered.

Tony watched the drowsy ten-year-old with interest, "Looks like someone may need to go to bed early tonight," he commented.

To Tony's infinite surprise, Harley didn't argue—and the threat of an earlier bedtime was usually anathema for him. He just sighed and said, "Yeah, maybe," before curling into Pepper's side.

Tony raised his eyebrows, "I'm sorry, but I _am _talking to Harley Keener, right? Or did aliens come and replace him with a pod-person while I wasn't paying attention?" he asked.

Harley half-smiled at the question, "Very funny, Tony," he said, just before his eyes fluttered shut.

Tony gave Pepper a bemused look. Pepper shrugged and said, "I guess he's just sleepy."

"Am _not_ sleepy," Harley muttered, only half-awake at best.

"Now _that's_ more like it," Tony observed, "Come on, Harley. Happy's waiting for us in the parking lot."

Harley looked up at Tony with heavy-lidded eyes, "Carry me," he pleaded, "Please?"

Tony sighed. How was he supposed to say no to that? "Alright, alright," he agreed, "C'mere."

He scooped Harley into his arms and groaned, "Jesus, you're heavy," he said.

"Don't be a drama queen," Harley mumbled. Pepper laughed out loud.

"Says the kid who's all but patented the Bambi eyes," Tony retorted, "Did you want me to get the kettle on the phone for you?"

But Harley didn't answer. He'd already fallen back asleep. In fact, he remained asleep as Happy drove them back to Stark Tower, and he hardly even stirred when Tony and Pepper tucked him into bed. "The last few days must have taken a lot out of him," Tony noted, feeling a twinge of guilt as he spoke.

Pepper nodded her agreement as she gave Harley's forehead a quick kiss, "It was a good deal for him to process in such a short period of time," she said, "He managed quite well, though. Better than I was expecting."

"What _had_ you been expecting?" Tony asked.

Pepper smiled wryly, "The worst," she answered, as they walked back out into the hall.

"You know, your irrepressible sunny optimism was one of the first things that made me fall in love with you," Tony remarked.

"Oh, ha, ha," Pepper deadpanned, "Every relationship needs a realist, Tony, and you and I both know that we've had the 'one of us needs to be responsible' discussion before."

Tony cocked his head to the side, "Do I sense a lecture coming on?" he asked, "If so, we should take it into the kitchen. Because you know what goes great with a lecture? A bottle of wine."

"And what happens after the wine isn't bad, either," Pepper hummed, satisfied to see a definite blush creep into Tony's cheeks.

"Is that a suggestion?" he asked.

"Maybe," Pepper said lightly, "But you'll have to sweep me off my feet if you want to get to the _really _good parts."

Tony pressed a sudden, impulsive kiss to Pepper's mouth; it was fierce and warm and left her feeling like she'd drank too much on an empty stomach. She clung to him tightly, his familiar cologne and machine oil scent enveloping her, and—_God_—he was good at this. Tony pulled away to look at her, his eyes bright, "Is that what you had in mind?" he asked.

"Oh, Tony," Pepper murmured, "I'm completely _swept_."

* * *

Grey and dreary weather greeted Tony when he woke up the next morning. He didn't mind, though. He liked the rain, within reason. It was peaceful, definitely. Plus, it gave him an excuse to spend the better part of his day inside the lab. He rolled over, and was surprised to see Pepper sleeping next to him. It was right around eight, which was early for him, but Pepper was usually up and dressed by 7:30. She had relaxed, some, since Harley had come into the picture, but she was definitely still the early riser of the two of them.

Tony watched Pepper fondly as she slept. He loved that he was the only one who got to see her like this. She was so poised and smart and capable. The very definition of unflappable, really. Which made her great at what she did, but it also made her unbelievably intimidating. (Not that Tony would _ever_ admit that to her.) But when she slept, Pepper unintentionally showed a totally different side of herself. All those hard edges, the strong armor she built around herself—it all disappeared. A rare, sweet softness took over, and Tony had half a mind to bury his face into her neck and stay there for the rest of the day.

But, unfortunately, there was work to be done. There were prototypes that needed tweaking, and Bruce had just dropped him a few blueprints the other day. So, Tony pressed a tender kiss to Pepper's forehead before he reluctantly eased himself out of the warm cocoon of covers for a shower.

Thirty minutes later, Tony was standing in the kitchen—reading the business section of the Times while he waited for the coffee to brew. Its heady scent was soon permeating the room and Tony was practically dozing where he stood, when the patter of footsteps shook him back to consciousness. He turned to look at the doorway just as Pepper came stumbling through it—tousle-haired and wan. "You going for the grunge look today, Pep?" Tony asked, "I like it. The nineties are making a comeback."

"Shut-up," Pepper grumbled, "I'm sick."

_There it is_, Tony thought. She could've denied it to the ends of the Earth, but Tony had known better. Pepper's admission, though, had caused an all-too familiar, unpleasant squirm in Tony's stomach. He did his best to shove that particular phobia aside; he can be sensitive and caring when he wants to be, contrary to what is _extraordinarily_ popular belief. _It's Pepper, _he reasoned, _and it's probably only a cold. It's not the plague. And besides, you love her_. He set the paper down on the counter and wandered over to where she stood, "Oh, yeah?"

Pepper sniffled gently into the back of her hand, "Mhmm. My throat was kind of sore when I went to bed last night, but nothing awful. I really did think I was just overtired, same as I told you on the plane. But then, I wake up this morning, and I'm dying."

"Dying, huh?" Tony teased gently, "That's pretty serious. Have you at least finished all your paperwork?"

Pepper rolled her eyes, but still laughed huskily. Tony was so near and inviting and warm that she couldn't help but bury her face in the soft fabric of his tee shirt. Tony stiffened involuntarily, which Pepper noticed. Her face flamed (she hoped she could just chalk it up to the fever), and she said as she pulled away, "Oh, God, Tony, I'm sorry—,"

But Tony shook his head, "No, hey, I'm sorry. It's just…one of those things. I don't—it needs—_I _need work. Well, I need to work on _it_."

He mentally punched himself for being so inarticulate. His usual glibness had completely evaded him, apparently. So, he just settled for gently pulling Pepper back into his arms. She resisted for a moment, unsure, but eventually leaned into his embrace.

They stayed like that for a few long, lovely moments. That is, until Pepper inhaled sharply and broke away to sneeze.

"Gesundheit," Tony said.

Pepper pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket, and blew her nose in response. Tony laid a hand on her forehead—warm and comforting in spite of the rough callouses, "You're kind of hot," he noted, "Well, not kind of, _really_. Always. Smoking, in fact. But I think you may have a fever."

Pepper sighed, "Possibly. Probably. I haven't checked. But it doesn't matter, even if I do. I still have a million things I need to do today."

"Hey, JARVIS?" Tony called, "Can I get a reading on Pepper's temperature?"

"Tony, honestly—"

"It's 100.9, sir," the AI responded in his customary flat tone.

Tony brushed a few loose strands of hair back from Pepper's forehead, "Alright, kid," he said, "You should be in bed."

Pepper stifled a cough in the crook of her arm, "Tony, I told you, I have too much work," she protested, though even she knew that the objection was half-hearted at best.

"I think I can manage to pick up the slack for one day, Pep."

Pepper raised her eyebrows sardonically, "Oh, _really_?"

"Ouch. I'm hurt, Potts. You don't trust me?"

Pepper just smiled and rolled her eyes. Tony laughed and said, "I'll take that as a no?"

"Definitely a no," Pepper answered.

"I don't think you give me enough credit," Tony said.

"I give credit where credit is due," Pepper responded primly.

Tony laughed out loud, and Pepper couldn't fight the grin that appeared on her face. However, rattling coughs quickly broke it in half. When she caught her breath, her teary eyes met Tony's dark brown ones. Sincere affection had replaced the usual sharp wit. She really, really liked that look.

"Hey, Pep?"

"Yeah?"

"Bed. Now."

Pepper sighed, "You got it, boss."

"I'll check on you in ten minutes," Tony told her, "And if you're working instead of resting, I'm locking your laptop until further notice."

Pepper followed Tony's instructions; she was too tired and sick to put up any sort of a fight. She wasn't entirely sure she believed Tony's promise to return. She loved Tony—so much it hurt, sometimes—but he wasn't exactly the most empathetic person around, even he would admit that. So, when he appeared in the bedroom twenty minutes later, she was actually quite impressed (even though he was ten minutes later than he said he'd be). But the cold medicine and fragrant paper bag he was carrying negated the delay almost entirely.

"Oh, darling," Pepper bantered weakly with a pet name they never used, "You cooked!"

Tony grinned, "All day, slaving over a hot stove, et cetera," he said, "It's chicken noodle. You want some?"

Pepper sneezed.

"Gesundheit," Tony told her, "So, that's a no, then?"

"Maybe later," Pepper said, "It was a very sweet gesture, though."

Tony made a face, "'Sweet' is not a word I ever expected to hear in relation to me," he said.

Pepper laughed, "Afraid it'll ruin your image?" she teased.

"Just don't let the press know how soft I've gotten," Tony said, with a mock shudder, "I'll never hear the end of it."

Their easy repartee came to an end when Harley poked his head in the bedroom. He was still in his pajamas, and he looked decidedly miserable, "I don't feel good," he croaked.

"Oh, Harley," Pepper said with a sympathetic frown, "Not you, too."

Harley looked over at Pepper, "Are you sick?" he asked her.

Pepper nodded, "Looks like we both are, kiddo," she told him.

"That's lousy," Harley moped.

"It is indeed," Pepper agreed, "Being sick's no fun."

Harley surveyed the room with a forlorn expression on his face, "I guess I'll go back to bed," he said quietly.

"Hey," Pepper called him back, "Where do you think you're going? You're welcome to get in bed with me, sweetheart. I'd love some company."

"You don't mind?" Harley asked, tentatively hopeful.

"Of course I don't mind," Pepper said kindly, "And maybe, if we're lucky," she shot a crafty look in Tony's direction, "Someone might be willing to take very good care of us."

Harley gave Tony a pleading look. Tony, in turn, sighed loudly and shoved Harley gently towards the bed, "Get over there," he said with gruff fondness, "But you know, that means this room is officially quarantined until further notice."

"I can live with that," Pepper said.

"Yeah, I bet you can," Tony grumbled, "Well, just call if you need anything. Or, y'know, tell JARVIS. I'm sure he'll pass along the message."

Tony was just about to leave the room when Harley said, "Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah, pal?"

Harley looked down at the bed shyly, "Sometimes, when I was sick, my mom would let me have ice-cream for breakfast," he said.

Tony raised his eyebrows, "Oh, did she?" he asked.

Harley nodded, "Yeah. And I was wondering—"

"What's your favorite flavor?" Tony interrupted knowingly.

Harley beamed, "Rocky Road," he answered, "Thanks, Tony."

Tony smiled, "You're welcome," he said, "But don't get used to it."

After Tony embarked on his ice-cream hunt, Harley sighed and burrowed further underneath the bedclothes. He peeked up drowsily at Pepper, who smiled softly. "Get some sleep," she told him, "I'll be here when you wake up."

That promise was all Harley needed to hear. He closed his eyes and drifted back off, buoyed by the knowledge that he was safe and warm.


	11. Chapter 11

**It's...UPDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATE TIIIIIIIIIIME! And it's another long chapter! I guess that's what happens when I stop updating, like, every twelve hours-I actually have the time to produce something substantial. Huh. Who knew?**

**This chapter is a pretty nice mix of fluff and angst, I think; it's not too gooey, but it's not an emotional roller-coaster, either. Balance! Yeah!**

**Like always, don't own Iron Man or any of the characters. Enjoy**

* * *

To Pepper's everlasting—and grateful—surprise, Tony turned into a model of efficiency in the face this particular illness. He picked up Pepper's usual responsibilities in addition to his own, all while simultaneously managing to take excellent care of both her and Harley. Pepper had planned on being very business as usual—not asking for much, taking care of herself for the most part, no complaining, getting back to work as soon as she felt well enough.

But, it wasn't often that Tony took care of _her_; usually, it was very much the other way around. And when he came into the room, unprompted, bearing tea and fresh tissues, Pepper realized she'd been given a golden opportunity, and she decided to milk her admittedly egotistic boyfriend for every last drop of sympathy she could. At first, she couldn't help but think, maybe, she was being a little bit selfish. But then she remembered the dozens of press conferences she'd dragged Tony to—kicking and screaming, hung-over or worse—and the guilt quickly passed. She'd more than earned this, and besides—she _was_ sick.

Harley did his share of manipulating, too, but Pepper was quite sure that sort of unapologetic guilt-tripping came naturally to most sensible ten-year-olds. He did make excellent company, though. They threw themselves a quiet pity party and commiserated over their shared misery. It was a strange thing, perhaps, to bond over; but, then, nothing about Harley's relationship with Tony and Pepper was remotely conventional. Knowing Tony in the capacity that she did had long ago taught Pepper that there was no point in dissecting moments—you just had to take them as they came and enjoy them while they lasted.

It was nice, Pepper decided. She and Tony were both such workaholics—in _completely_ different ways—that it wasn't often their respective schedules were clear enough to spend time together. Though Pepper hadn't cleared hers willingly, she could at least, she figured, take something away from the unplanned downtime. "You know," she sighed contentedly, when Tony brought her a tray laden with orange juice and the soup from earlier, "I think I could get used to this."

"Don't," Tony advised her, "This just happens to be a novelty, and you know how much I love new things. But I wouldn't make it a habit, if I were you."

"Oh, please," Harley said, without looking up from his comic book, "You know you love us."

Pepper beamed at Tony, and he offered a small smile accompanied by an eye roll in response, "Yeah, well," he said, "I really do have a full afternoon ahead of me, so one more cup of tea and then you two are on your own."

One cup of tea turned into two, then three, and a long nap late into the afternoon. When Pepper woke up, Harley had since vacated his spot next to her. She wondered if he was napping in his own bed, or if he was feeling well enough to be up and around. She shrugged; she could figure that out later. She got out of bed—shivering reflexively at the sudden temperature change—and walked to the bathroom.

One relaxing, thirty-minute shower later, Pepper was feeling considerably more human. At least, human enough to dress in a pair of jeans, an old sweatshirt of Tony's, and see about dinner. She found a few cartons of leftover Chinese in the refrigerator. Normally, Pepper was considerably more selective about what she put in her body, but she was still too tired to handle the time and mess cooking an entire dinner involved. Pepper was resting the small of her back against a counter while the microwave hummed away, when Tony and Harley ambled into the kitchen.

"Hey," Tony sounded pleased, "You live."

"I do," Pepper smiled, "I'm alive and better—not well just yet, but better. What have you guys been up to?"

Harley, who was still pajama-clad and had a grease mark on his forehead, answered, "We were in the lab. Tony was helping me build a new potato gun!"

Pepper shot Tony a knowing look, "Oh, _was_ he?"

Harley didn't pick up on Pepper's less-than-ecstatic tone, "Yeah!" he exclaimed, "It's way stronger than my old one, plus it shoots with much more precision. We did some target practice and tested it out."

Pepper pursed her lips and didn't answer. There were already more than enough weapons in Stark Tower as it was, and she didn't relish the thought of Harley having his own. Tony blanched slightly at Pepper's expression, "Pep, come on," he wheedled, "It's not a big deal; you can buy potato guns for, like, five bucks online. Don't be a fun sucker."

"I am _not _a fun sucker," Pepper said crossly, "I resent that."

Tony's mouth opened in preparation of either an apology or a sarcastic retort, but a series of congested coughs from Harley distracted both Pepper and Tony from the impending argument. "Oh, that doesn't sound good at all," Pepper worried.

She went over and placed her hand on Harley's brow, "You still feel very feverish," she said with a frown, "I'm not sure you should be up and around—"

Harley ducked out of Pepper's reach, "I'm _fine_, Pepper," he insisted, "I've been in bed all day, and it's so boring. I just want to hang out for a while before I go back."

Pepper looked ready to protest further, but Tony was faster, "You can stay down here, buddy," Tony told him.

Pepper rolled her eyes, but she didn't object anymore. Instead, she got her Chinese out of the microwave and stabbed moodily at a few noodles with her fork. Harley could insist that he was fine all he wanted, but that didn't mean she was going to believe him. Ordinarily, she would've pressed the point, but tonight she just didn't have the energy.

Tony seemed a bit nervous about the sudden mood Pepper was in, and reluctant to say anything else. Harley was the first to speak, "Can we watch a movie?"

An expression of relief crossed Tony's face at the subject change, "Sure thing," he turned to Pepper, his tone a bit more apprehensive, "Pepper? You want to watch with us?"

Pepper shrugged noncommittally and set her lo mein down on the counter. Tony walked over to her and cupped her hands between his in that earnest way he adopted when he was trying to get something out of her, "Pep," he coaxed, "Come on. It'll be great."

With a long suffering sigh, Pepper finally allowed, "I _suppose_ a movie could be fun. It's at least more relaxing than spending the afternoon building weapons."

The last part of her sentence was directed pointedly at Tony and Harley, who exchanged embarrassed grins. "I'm gonna go pick something out," Harley said.

"It better be good!" Tony called after him, "If I have to watch _Finding Nemo _again, I'm going to lose my mind. You can only find a fish so many times before the interest wears off."

"Chill out," Harley said as he left the kitchen, "It'll be good. I promise."

Tony turned his attention to Pepper, "Are you really feeling better?" he asked, "Or are you just trying to downplay it for my sake?"

Pepper shook her head, "I really am feeling much better," she assured him, "Well, maybe _much _is going a bit far. But I feel better than I did this morning. I do still have a fever, though I think it'll be gone in a day or so."

Tony nodded thoughtfully, "You know," he said, "You aren't nearly as whiny as I'd be, if it were me in this situation."

Pepper didn't have the sinus clarity to snort, so she just settled for rolling her eyes, "Then I _sincerely_ hope you don't get this," she told him.

Tony gave her his best kicked-puppy expression, "You wouldn't take care of me? Come on, Potts, I handled _your _gross tissues all day," he protested.

"Well, I'm not touching yours," Pepper shot back.

Tony laughed and kissed Pepper on the top of her head, figuring he couldn't catch cold germs through her scalp. Pepper allowed herself a bleary smile, "In all seriousness, though," she said, "I really do hope you don't get sick. It's a pretty miserable virus."

"I've been through worse," Tony said with a shrug, and Pepper winced. That was true, they both had, but that didn't mean she liked being reminded of it.

"Come on," she said, "Let's go find Harley."

They found him in the lounge closest to the kitchen. He was sprawled out on a sofa, getting the movie he'd chosen ready to play. "What'd you decide on?" Tony asked.

Harley looked up at him and smiled, "_The Iron Giant_!" he said, "Like you, kind of. _Told _you it'd be good."

Tony nudged Harley to make room, "I've never seen it," Tony told him, "So the jury's still out."

Harley waved a dismissive hand, "It's amazing," he maintained, "I've seen it literally a hundred times."

"A hundred times, wow," Tony said sarcastically, "You do realize that means you've spent over a quarter of your life watching this one movie, right?"

Harley stuck out his tongue at Tony before he wrapped up in a cashmere throw that was lying on the arm of the sofa. He gestured for Pepper to join them, and she did—curling up serenely in-between Tony and Harley. As the movie began, Pepper found that she wasn't actively paying attention; though, she did very much enjoy resting her head on Tony's lap while he ran his hands through her hair. _Mmm_.

Perhaps Harley really _had _seen the movie a hundred times, because not even twenty-five minutes into it, he was sound asleep. "I'm sure all that lab work probably wore him out," Pepper said.

"Very subtle," Tony commented, "Should we take him to his room?"

Pepper thought for a moment, "It's just barely eight, which is pretty early," she reasoned, "But he clearly needs the extra rest."

She lightly shook Harley's shoulder, "It's time for bed, sweetheart," she whispered, "Let's go back to your bedroom, okay?"

Harley sat up and stared confusedly around the room, "Bed?" he asked.

Pepper nodded, "Bed," she agreed, suppressing a giggle at his sleep-muddled answer, "Do you want one of us to carry you?"

Harley shook his head, "I can do it," he said as he slid off the sofa.

He headed towards the door, and Tony got up to follow him, "I should probably make sure he actually manages to make it there," he said, and Pepper laughed.

Tony returned a few minutes later, "He's asleep," he told her.

"Did he brush his teeth?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah, sure," Tony said, "Brushed his teeth, and—what else is he supposed to do?"

"Wash his face."

"Yep, he did that, too," Tony said.

Pepper was quite sure Tony wasn't telling the whole truth—or even half the truth—but she let it go, just this once. "Do you want to watch something different?" she asked.

"Do I get to pick?"

"No," Pepper said, ignoring Tony's noises of protests, "Because anytime I let you pick, we wind up watching NOVA Tech and Engineering specials. Besides," she added in her best pathetic voice, "I'm sick."

Tony sighed loudly, but complied, "Fine, okay. But only because you're so _sick_," he imitated her pout.

They wound up binge watching _Friday Night Lights _on Netflix—one of a select few non-science based TV shows that Tony would grudgingly admit to enjoying. _Xena: Warrior Princess _was on the list, too, but Pepper was sworn to secrecy on that one.

It was 10:30 and they were two-and-a-half episodes in when Pepper began to cough and sniffle with increasing frequency. The third time she asked Tony to hand her a tissue so she could discretely smother a sneeze, he lay his hand on her forehead and said, "I think it may be time for you to head to bed."

Pepper peered up at him, "I think you may be right," she agreed.

They were curled up under the covers before Pepper knew it—Tony's arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Just before falling asleep, Pepper couldn't help but think—if she had to be sick, this certainly wasn't a bad way to do it.

* * *

"Tony? Pepper?"

The hoarse whisper jerked Pepper awake. "Harley?" she said, immediately on alert, "Is that you?"

Tony stirred next to her and sat up, "What's going on?" he mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"JARVIS, turn on the lights," Pepper commanded.

JARVIS complied, and Pepper walked over to the door so she could get a better look at Harley, "It's past midnight, sweetheart," she said, "Why are you awake? Is something wrong?"

His face was bone white except for fever spots high in his cheeks. He stared at Pepper with glassy eyes, "I don't feel so good," he managed, just before he threw up all over the carpet.

"Harley!" Pepper cried, and quickly wrapped her arms around him. He was shivering violently, Pepper realized.

He looked up at Pepper, "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize, honey, you can't help it that you're sick," Pepper soothed as she guided him over to the bed.

Pepper turned to Tony, "He's burning up with a fever," her voice a note higher for dread, "JARVIS, what's Harley's temperature?"

"It's 103.5, miss," the AI answered.

"103!" Pepper gasped, "Tony, that's so high! Why is it so high? He was fine a few hours ago!"

Tony looked just as shaken as Pepper, "I don't know," he admitted.

He got out of bed, "Stay here with him," he instructed, "See if you can get his temperature down—wipe his face and arms with a cool washcloth, maybe. I'll be right back."

Tony raced down the hallway, fervently hoping that Bruce was spending the night at the Tower like he sometimes did. Skidding to a stop in front of what had become Bruce's unofficial bedroom, he threw open the door and flicked on the lights. "What the hell?" a lump of covers in the bed mumbled angrily.

"Oh, Jesus, Banner, I am so glad you're here," Tony said, "Sorry for waking you up, but are you still taking patients?"

Bruce sat up and stared at Tony, "Am I still taking—what? Tony, what's happening?"

"Harley's been sick, but not all that sick," he explained quickly, "But then he came into our room and his fever's spiked up to 103 out of fucking nowhere and I have absolutely no idea what to do."

Bruce, the epitome of doctorly calm in a crisis, got quickly out of bed and threw on a shirt, "Don't panic," he instructed, "I'm sure this is upsetting, but fever spikes are actually pretty typical in young kids."

"Well, his brain is going to fry if we don't hurry up," Tony snapped, his worry making him angry and impatient.

If Bruce noticed the brusque tone, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he just followed Tony back to his bedroom. Harley was half-sitting in Pepper's lap while she pressed a washcloth to his forehead—his eyes were open, but unfocused. "Hey, Harley," Bruce said steadily, "I hear you aren't feeling very well."

Harley nodded groggily. Bruce turned to Pepper, "The washcloth was an excellent idea," he said kindly.

"Tony thought of it," Pepper said hollowly, "Bruce, I'm so scared—what's wrong with him? Is he going to be okay?"

"He's going to be completely fine," Bruce reassured her, "I already told Tony—high fevers aren't uncommon in younger children. They'll scare the hell out of you, but they happen."

Pepper smiled weakly, "So what do we do?"

"Run him a bath," Bruce instructed, "Lukewarm water is best. It needs to be warm enough that he doesn't get chilled, but cool enough to lower his temperature. If he starts to shiver, take him out. Once you've done that, get his temperature. If it's 101 or below, he's okay, and he can go back to bed. Though, I would monitor it throughout the night to make sure it doesn't spike again. If it's still 102 or higher, I'd give him half a dose of ibuprofen, and take him to the ER."

"Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you," Pepper said to Bruce, her voice wavering slightly, "Bruce, you're wonderful."

Bruce chuckled, "I guess I'm okay," he said with a shrug.

Pepper gave him a grateful kiss on the cheek as Tony clapped him on the shoulder, "I owe you one," he said.

Bruce shrugged off their thank-you's in his customary sweet, self-effacing manner, "It was nothing," he told them, "Really."

Tony and Pepper followed Bruce's instructions to the letter. Well, _Tony _followed them; even in his barely coherent state, Harley still managed to get embarrassed at the idea of Pepper seeing him without his clothes on, "It would just be way too weird," he said.

Pepper was privately relieved, because to be totally honest—she'd been nervous about how that situation was going to play out, too. She stood anxiously outside the bathroom door and asked for updates every two minutes. "Pepper," Tony called back exasperatedly after what must've been her fiftieth request, "Nothing is going to drastically change in the thirty seconds you wait between each question."

Pepper, her emotions already riding high, lashed out, "Tony, I cannot help it that I'm worried, and so help me—"

"Pepper," came Harley's sleepy voice, "Relax. I'm okay."

And he was, indeed, okay. After the bath was over, JARVIS scanned his temperature. It was resting at 101.1—which was still higher than Pepper liked, but considerably more stable than it had been. Once Harley was settled in the middle of the big bed, he let out a long, contented sigh, "Feels better," he murmured, "Thanks."

He dropped off to sleep almost immediately, which was good—considering it was officially 2:30 in the morning. Pepper and Tony got in bed on either side of him, "What a little trooper," Tony whispered fondly.

Pepper nodded. "He really is," she said.

She hadn't meant for her voice to tremble, and certainly not her mouth, but before she knew what was happening, she was shaking with tightly bottled sobs. "I d—don't know what's wrong with m—me," she managed, "I'm so—so sorry."

Tony, worried that they were going to wake Harley, led Pepper off the bed and into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him as Pepper sank down the floor. He sat down next to Pepper and folded her into his arms, "It's been a long, terrible night," he said, "There's nothing wrong with you. You're tired, and sick, and overwhelmed. Just take a few minutes to calm down, and you'll be okay."

When Pepper managed to regain her composure, she gazed at Tony—her eyes shining with tears, "I was so scared we were going to lose him," she admitted shakily.

Tony looked back at her; she was pale and fragile and somehow smaller than usual. His throat swelled in a sudden rush of affection—_love_, he realized, but instead he just said, "But we didn't. He's still here. He's here, and everything is fine. And that's all that matters."


End file.
